History

As far back as I can remember, I've loved rolling coins. If you're wondering if that's the hip new slang for something taboo, you'd be wrong. And dirty. Shame on you.

When I was but a wee nugget, my cousin and sister and I would eagerly await Grandpa's visit with Pig Power, a game he had fashioned out of a cardboard soda can flat. Each circle had a monetary denomination on it, the highest being $1.00. He'd give us soda bottle caps to throw at the board, and being that I was the youngest, I got to stand a foot in front of the line. We'd walk away with no more than $5, but every penny had been earned.

As we got older, Grandma and Grandpa would toss their change in coffee cans and bring them to us. Katie and I amused ourselves at the kitchen table for hours as we rolled coins. We sang songs, told jokes, relived stories from Girl Scout camp, and got our fingers dirty with the thousands of coins that passed through them.

Decades later, I keep my own mugs full of coins strategically placed around my bedroom. I look forward to digging through my bag and tossing the dregs of the week's purchases into the pot. I only occasionally roll them up - the last session was to distract myself from a gallon of viscous laxative I needed to drink prior to a colonoscopy - but I have succumbed to Coinstar.

For old time's sake, and possible for therapeutic reasons, I'm planning a rolling session this weekend - party of one.