With her young fresh eyesight she can spot a penny anywhere from ten to twenty feet away. Doesn't matter the shade or texture of the tarmac, she'll spot the pennies.
I suppose I should blame myself for this fun habit of hers. I'm the kind of guy that will bend to gather a lost coin no matter the location or circumstances; it's free money. It's United States currency. That lost penny, as soon as it's in your fingers, has just increased in value from one cent to four cents. I explained this to Little Bit when she was about four years old and she hasn't forgotten it.
This penny habit of hers is strong. I love to watch her penny search tactics. When we eat out, doesn't matter which eatery, I'm always accompanied by Little Bit to the cashier's stand where she'll slowly circle the area, to bend and probe under the tables or chairs or behind the magazine racks for her precious little pieces of copper.
At one local seafood market the nice lady cashier, when she sees Little Bit, will wait until she is distracted and then take a couple of pennies from the tip jar and gently toss them on the floor for her to find. For each discovery the entire establishment is rewarded with a squeal of happiness. She'll come to me holding her prize, extended. Then she'll carefully look at the date and say, "Papa, it's a nineteen eight two, (not 'eighty' two) is this a good one?" I'll reply yes or no, depending upon the date.
She's asked if it's copper or copper washed. You do know the difference, don't you? If not, click here.
Sometimes on our rounds we'll stop at a local convenience store. After we've selected our items and just before we make our purchase, Little Bit will inevitably get down and crawl, if possible, on her tummy and reach under the shelves for lost pennies. Many times she'll get back up with five or six pennies, her clothing dirty and dusty. I've caught so much hell over this practice from her Nana and parents.
I always take the pennies she finds and place them in the left pocket of my trousers and when we get home we'll walk into my closet and I hand the pennies to her for one last look. We'll then separate the coins by date, those prior to 1982 will go into a little glass jar, Little Bit will then say, "Okay, Papa, put them in my box." I'll take the remaining pennies back and reach and drop them into an old cigar box I keep on a high shelf. We call it Little Bit's education fund. It's almost filled. One day soon we'll take it and drop all the coins into one of those sorting machines. I'll give Little Bit the receipt and she'll cash it in.
After she's, of course, searched the area for more pennies.