Monday mornings, my allowance sat waiting for me, perched on the wood countertop next to that of my two brothers’.
My dad, the accountant, set out the coins in a perfect row. Alan, the eldest, got 30 cents. Martin, the youngest, got 20. I got 25.
I saved my quarters in a tin piggy bank for five weeks. With $1.25 cents, I could buy a MAD paperback book.
At …
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to No Dikkering Around to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.