I heard an uncommon mass of clinking coming from the toilet upstairs, so I stood up from in front of the TV and curiously made my way over. My father had his back to me, hunched over the sink. The light noise was still emanating. I stood at a less obtuse angle so I could see and asked him why he was washing his bag of $1 coins. He replied that you never know where they had been. And with the respectable formula of soap and water, the money gets a good cleansing.
/edit/ On 22 April 2011, I discovered that this bagga coins, painstakingly collected and slotted into a tall coinbox daily was meant for me and my 21st birthday. Talk about understated love. I love it :)
No comments:
Post a Comment