The Pathetic Plight of my Piggy-Bank
What, for my family, had developed into an annual late fall ritual has had to be discontinued, due in part to Covid restrictions and the subsequent near shut-down of in-person shopping. That, coupled with the increased use of credit cards and on line shopping, for even the smallest of purchases, has tolled the bell on our annual ‘break-the-piggy-bank’ party.
I still pay for almost everything I purchase ‘in person’ with cash, both paper and metal. Call me old fashioned if you must.
Up until a couple of years ago I would end each day, at least those in which I had ventured out into what passes for ’society’ these days, by emptying my trouser pockets - once in a while a shirt or jacket pocket. Pennies went into a jar kept in a drawer, nickels and dimes were set aside for the vehicles - to pay parking fees/tolls when required. But quarters, and the occasional half-dollar (when was the last time you actually held a ‘half dollar’ in your hand?) went into the piggy bank. Every month or so I would heft the pig aloft and estimate its weight - not so much in pounds and ounces, but in value. After doing this for several years you develop a sense for these things.
I think it was nineteen twenty-one when I first noticed, mid summer, that the pig seemed to be on a very successful diet.
Prior to 2021 the primal smashing of the ceramic piggy bank would yield, when divided equally between two grandchildren and an aging grandfather, around twenty-five to thirty dollars each. Not a large amount, but one unexpected. Enough to treat your friends to burgers and fries at a fast food restaurant, and your grandfather to another bottle of cheap wine.
What to do with the ceramic pig?
