Once upon a time, I rolled my eyes at those commercials that claimed you could buy such-and-such with only the money you had in your couch's seat cushions.
Nobody leaves money in seat cushions, I told myself. That's just silly.
My coin comeuppance arrived tonight, as I retucked the sofa cushions in anticipation of my nephew's overnight stay. I spotted a paper napkin that had fallen beneath the cushion frame, and before I knew it I had fetched a flashlight and was removing an archeological collection of knickknacks that had slipped down below.
A half-dozen pens.
Two or three small handy-wipes from Buffalo Wild Wings.
Several rubber bands from the morning paper.
Receipts and slips of paper with scribbled numbers and notes whose significance had long since faded from memory.
And....what was that? A glint in the flashlight's glare?
A dime.
A quarter.
A penny.
Another quarter.
A nickle.
Another dime.
All told, 76 cents emerged from the depths.
I won't be able to retire on that. But somewhere, a commercial scriptwriter is smirking.
I don't know if that's hilarious because it just is, or because I knew it first. :)
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