mr and mrs pig piggy banks

And here I sit in total astonishment...............I thought I was the only being on planet earth with a stash of boxes holding bits of things that CAN NOT ever be mended...............even professionally..............but hey, I still have the "thing", neh?

 

Mine looked like Lady from Lady & the Tramp and I kept hoping I'd figure out how to repair. her. I got her the Christmas I was five. Much of my childhood was spent being fostered out because my mother couldn't work and take care of me, so the few things I have left from then are emotionally attached to my psyche. I got to live at home from the time I was 12 and that was an adventure. My mother and step-dad lived for flea markets. In between defaulting on rent, they opened second hand stores. My step-dad was a character. Someone would come in looking for a rug and he'd sell them a chair. The art of haggling didn't rub off on me. I'm a terrible salesperson. He never learned to read and write so I was his bookkeeper. He could do figures in his head faster than I could do them on paper, though.

 

Bev, I'll bet you have more great stories. Your spelling and grammar are so good, you should write them down!

 

Surely you can reassemble it.

 

I concur!

 

Bev, thanks for sharing your story. It is amazing what we hang on to for sentimental reasons.

 

Unless it was folding money in the bank, the old nail file or table knife blade worked wonders for getting money back out of piggy banks.........which is why mine never acquired much weight.............sigh.....