Over the last few days I have been teaching my oldest daughter (3) to sort coins. I bought a wood kit at the local hardware store that involved a pre-made project that when assembled becomes a box fit with slots for each size coin, properly marked with measuring markers for how much money each stack added up to.
She had to use the small hammer I bought for her sized hands to drive the nails into the pre-drilled holes while I, for the first time in my life, actually read the assembly instructions.
She did a great job quickly learning the difference between the coins. Pennies are easy, but the others are the same color and relied on size and texture differences. I was trying to understand the challenge she faced in order to best teach her and made sure she could call out the name of each coin as she selected the correct slot.
After the first handful of 100% success she just gave me a spontaneousness hug. The sort of gold currency a Dad cannot get enough of. It was fun for her to build the project and then use it to learn. She was satisfied and proud of her work and I was convinced that I had this exercise all figured out and thought through every possible angle.
When she ran out of coins she looked at me with a sad face and said "Dad, are they going to be the same tomorrow?"
It took me a few minutes to understand her concern; we were working with change.
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