Piggy Bank

“Laughter is timeless, imagination has no age and dreams are forever.” -Walt Disney

Sometimes I think I look too pink and stocky. Pink because of my skin and stocky as I’m full of pennies.
Madison, who spoils me with copper coins: whom I love, assures me that I look fine and that she adores my round nose. She makes me feel priceless as she talks of some place called Disneyland and that one day, I’ll help her get there.

Instead of buying Hatchimals, she fed me her Christmas bonus saying that she’ll get bunches of balloons there. Maybe if she has enough, she can freewheel in the sky. Instead of the Easter egg hunt, she entrusted me with dimes ensuring that it’s for churros at Disneyland. The park was titanic, her little body needs fuel to keep the engine running. I just wished to see her happy at Halloween, wearing a princess costume but she dreamt of meeting the real princesses someday.

“I’ll ask them about Prince Charming.”

The way she babbles about that place makes me want to escape there. A boisterous day they spend for something called as an adrenaline rush. Cachinnate and shrieks of joy, magical characters coming to life, a ride in Fantasyland, talking Woodland creatures… It sounds like the happiest place there could be.

After spending a lot of time on the bookshelf and watching her scribble to-do lists ‘FOR FUN AT DISNEYLAND,’ I know that she’ll take me there. We share a bond and she invests in me. After finding loose change under the carpet or between the cushions, she writes down the denominations on a paper. Sometimes when her mom feels can’t pay the bills, she takes a loan and cleverly changes the numbers on the sheet.
Madison isn’t very good at math. She is good at dreaming and becoming. Her mom is a lot like me, we understand Madison’s stubbornness to be happy and sacrificing temporary luxuries to achieve it. I wish I could multiply the money so we jet set to Peter Pan’s Flight; but her mom actually doubles the borrowed sum.

One day, Madison’s mother comes home charged about receiving a cash bonus as her articles were being published in a magazine. She jots down the amount received and totals the savings. It was worth an Indiana Jones Adventure.

She subtly hints Madison that, sending her into a state of euphoria and craziness to bounce on the bed. The sweet boink of springs were a soundtrack to her excitement. Her mom couldn’t decide what was more satisfying, being a published writer or getting the paycheck to fulfil your daughter’s desire.

Watching her dance was a preview of what was to come at Disneyland. I want to lollop, like Madison, away to the Jungle Cruise. It’s like she reads my mind and picks me up planting kisses on my belly. My place next to the beautiful orange tulips: a fairy’s home replaced by Madison’s hands, newly found solace.

She recites bulletin points from her lists- getting a map, collecting souvenirs, leaving a mark, gulping the Snowberry Twist, having the best time of her life. She even tells her mom to pack a paper booklet to get the autographs of cast members, her young mind escaping the invention of cameras. Also, she wants get the address for Mad Hatter’s Tea Party. Wonderland.
Every part of her body was jiving, everything blurry but the happiness on her face. She was talking beyond her years about rides that defy Laws of Gravitation.

“I’ll catch you.”

Madison’s hold loosened and I was soaring then dropping, hoping that the next stop would be Tomorrowland, until all the pennies fell to the floor. She will finally meet the Pirates of Carribean and I’ll amount to something.