The Children’s Book Review
Published: February 24, 2012
I was 6 years old when I got my first piggy bank. It was round, pink, and adorable. From time to time, I would drop loose change into the slot, but mostly just to hear the coins hit the bottom of her porcelain belly. I didn’t save any money – it was usually spent on candy – or more likely than not – Garbage Pail Kids (it was the 80’s).
My second attempt at saving money was much more structured. My mother helped me open a savings account at our local bank. I was excited to have a place for my birthday and holiday money, and I would dutifully make note of my deposits in my bank book. My 12-year-old mind was officially blown when my mother explained to me my account would earn interest. The bank was going to give me free money?! I made up my mind to let the account grow and mature, but my plans were cut short when my brother persuaded me loan him my savings. He was successful, and let’s just say, he still owes me 80 bucks – with interest.