The piggybank was placed somewhere safe. The shiny coins clunked and clinked into the slot that locked away the pennies until that visit to the bank. The coins of various shapes and sizes were added up by the man behind the counter. They smiled at our 7 year old selves and gave us that receipt that confirmed the growing bank balance. The treasured bank passbook kept the visible tally.
Some of us were better at it than others. Deferring pleasure is harder for some.
