Sunday, April 30, 2006


We celebrated the end of Brendan's second year by getting up in the wee dawn hours and laying out our dirty laundry on our driveway. It was our first garage sale, a preposterous way to spend a Saturday, I thought.

But the clutter in the attic had hit critical mass for Gene, so on Wednesday when he started bringing it down, I knew he was serious. I shrugged and started sorting the baby clothes. I'd forgotten I'd stored all of Emma's up there, and out of sight, decided that I'd given them away to charity and thus had none to share with my neighbors who between them have three little girls. Egads, I thought looking through the 0 - 3 box. What a waste of good neighborliness.

But of course, the rain we missed for so long presented itself this Friday night in torrents, scaring the fabled early morning garage sale shoppers away. It was 8:00 before we saw our first browser and close to 9:00 before we made our first sale. A-ha, I'd snapped the night before! Let's get rid of all those storage containers in the children's play area. They're basically wire shelves or baskets, through which all manner of tiny barbie shoe or little ball or vital game piece falls, never to be seen for months. I haven't got time. For. The. Pain. Anylonger.

They were the first to sell. We made a cool twenty bucks, if I recall correctly. The rest of the day was a little of this, a little of that. Gene's four routers sold quickly, as did his motorcycle helmet, and that's probably when the universal remote was stolen. A shame. We'd marked it for $7. But all in all we made about $80 and spent ten, when I had the opportunity to scour the neighborhood for children's summer clothing. It was a neighborhood garage sale weekend.

But early in the day, before the kids got up, before our run to Sonic for breakfast burritos and tator tots, Gene and I had the opportunity to sit together musing about no one was showing up. Gene said he should put up a sign that said FREE, and after people got out of their cars, the sign would drop ZE! And we'd hold them to make the big sales pitch. This amused me to no end and I asked complainingly why aren't you funny this way all the time?

I'm a situational comic, he replied.

It was some time after that, but before I'd gotten the sunburn that I realized I'd hit critical mass too. I'd just sold our albeit lousy toy storage, and I couldn't live this week without any, and since it looks so easy to make on our favorite home improvement shows, may I please have six four-foot long toy boxes made of medium density fiberboard? Thanks, let me know how it works out.

I hijacked his Sunday, which means I need to give it back to him in the evenings after work this week so that he can work on his Mustang engine. I also am trying to make myself busy doing chores I'd normally eschew on Sundays, so that he's not the only one working, but I'm running out of things to do, and I can't shake this guilty feeling.

Dinner! Yes, that's it -- a healthy, wholesome affair. I'm off for the planning. Thanks for checking in.


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