(This is my first go at Sunday Scribblings. It’s only Thursday but Keith at Keith’s Ramblings say it will be alright. He’ll probably try to be clever and write a poem or something, but I’m doing it my way. I'm writing about CHANGE)
I save my loose change, all those little coins that hide away in the corner of my purse. Little bronze pennies and tiny silver fives. Actually I don’t always save them. Now and again someone rattles a collecting tin under my nose and I pop some in there.
But the ones I save really add up. I had fifteen pounds worth the other day. I saved them in a tin which I took to the bank. The woman behind the counter was a little grumpy with me. She told me I had to add them up for her and put them in little plastic packets. When I think how much money my Dad gives the bank, you’d think they’d do it for me.
Anyway, I took my tin home again, and a handful of packets, and set about sorting them out. It took me hours. Trouble was the piles were quite high, especially the ones with a hundred pennies, and a couple of times my cats knocked them over! But in the end I managed it and off I went to the bank again.
I hoped I’d see someone different. There were six of them peering out from behind their glass screens. But wouldn’t you know it. ‘Cashier number five’ a voice said, and once again I found myself facing Miss Starched Knickers. One by one she put them on some scales like the man on the fruit barrow in the market only she was weighing a different type of pounds. Sadly several didn’t weigh the right amount. I said they were old coins and they were a bit worn but she was having none of it. She even pulled out a few Euro type coins. I said that they should be ok, because we are part of Europe but she was having none of it. But in the end we got there, and I had fifteen pounds which I spent on two bottles of chardonnay and something we girls need which I’m not discussing here.
I can’t believe I written a whole piece. Keith said I’d never manage it. Well that showed you mate didn’t it.