Bed is the Word
The three of us spent yesterday morning rummaging. Rummaging has lost a bit of its cachet for me recently because I’ve already stocked Abbie’s dressers beyond full with lots of cute clothes that are so lightly stained you can’t even tell. Since her wardrobe is complete until at least next rummage season, there’s no point to buying more clothes, or room. Nevertheless, occasional rummaging is still enjoyable since we can always use more toys and books, and it doesn’t hurt to buy the occasional bargain-priced, super-cute, super-lightly-stained outfit. As if that stuff wasn’t exciting enough, on this morning we were also searching for a toddler bed. Someday soon, probably before the next rummage season, Abbie will need to leave her crib and start using something using something she can crawl into and out of by herself. Since Ellie won’t let me throw a mattress on the floor and call it a bed, we needed to find a toddler bed, preferably a used one. Whenever you walk into a retail store and mention that you’re looking for something as vital to a young child’s life as a bed, their eyes light up and their pupils morph into dollar signs, because you want something nice for the child you love, not something cheap. “Cheap” is just a synonym for “bad” in store lingo, and your child deserves better than a “cheap” bed. Plus the type of bed you buy is a direct reflection on your parenting, and you’re not “cheap” parents, are you? We inevitably wind up seeing nothing but beautiful solid-wood beds with gorgeous carvings handcrafted by magic elves who are represented by a strong union (the International Coalition of Elvin Carpenters and Bakers, Local 165) meaning it would be cheaper to just buy her first car now and let her sleep in it for a few years than to buy her a new toddler bed.
Garage sales can be rather hit and miss, especially when looking for a specific item. Sometimes I find garage sales stocked with swaths of name-brand, barely worn clothing whose owners just want to jettison it for whatever they can get to make space in their basements for that new pool table and wet bar. I call these “jackpots” because, like the slot machine variety, they pay off handsomely, and, also like the slot machine variety, they help you forget about all the “losers,” where “lots of baby clothes” in the newspaper ad becomes “a couple heavily-stained size 4T boy’s shirts that Aunt Frieda found in her attic and decided to drop off” in real life. “Jerks.” Yesterday was pretty good; no jackpots, but we did find a toddler bed frame at an early garage sale. It was in decent shape, but they still wanted $10 so we decided to look a bit more and come back for it if needed. I did pick up some cheap books at this sale, including one book with photographs of young children riding toys straight out of the 70’s. When I saw the price tag that said “free” and the picture of the 3-year-old with an Afro big enough to double his head size, I knew I was so getting that book.
Our next sale had what looked to be the exact same bed for $20, but with a couple of advantages. First, it included a mattress, and since it’s watertight, it’s worth the extra ten bucks right there. Second, it was disassembled with the original packaging and instructions so we could easily transport it back home and store it until we needed it. Or at least we could have easily transported it if we had the truck, which we didn’t at the time. I gave the proprietors $20 and had them hold it for us until I could return.
On the way home we stopped at a big box store to try to find the same bed. That way we could compare prices and quickly determine if we hit the jackpot by saving money, or if we’re just losers who spent too much. We didn’t find anything similar, just the standard magic elf beds. I didn’t go home without picking something up, though. The store’s music was playing “Cherish” by the Association, and danged if it hasn’t been stuck in my head ever since. It’s been about 36 hours since my exposure, and I’m still humming “Cherish is the word I use to describe.” I tried listening to music I like, namely the latest Ben Folds on the way to pick up the bed, and at the other end of the spectrum I tried listening to Meatloaf, and not just any Meatloaf, but the Rear View Mirror song. I’m still whistling it. I’m whistling “You don’t know how many times I’ve wished that I had told you” right now. I need to just put it out of my head and concentrate on the most important thing about yesterday, namely that I found a suitable toddler bed at a suitable price. Of course the other important thing about yesterday is cherish is the word. Dang it!
Garage sales can be rather hit and miss, especially when looking for a specific item. Sometimes I find garage sales stocked with swaths of name-brand, barely worn clothing whose owners just want to jettison it for whatever they can get to make space in their basements for that new pool table and wet bar. I call these “jackpots” because, like the slot machine variety, they pay off handsomely, and, also like the slot machine variety, they help you forget about all the “losers,” where “lots of baby clothes” in the newspaper ad becomes “a couple heavily-stained size 4T boy’s shirts that Aunt Frieda found in her attic and decided to drop off” in real life. “Jerks.” Yesterday was pretty good; no jackpots, but we did find a toddler bed frame at an early garage sale. It was in decent shape, but they still wanted $10 so we decided to look a bit more and come back for it if needed. I did pick up some cheap books at this sale, including one book with photographs of young children riding toys straight out of the 70’s. When I saw the price tag that said “free” and the picture of the 3-year-old with an Afro big enough to double his head size, I knew I was so getting that book.
Our next sale had what looked to be the exact same bed for $20, but with a couple of advantages. First, it included a mattress, and since it’s watertight, it’s worth the extra ten bucks right there. Second, it was disassembled with the original packaging and instructions so we could easily transport it back home and store it until we needed it. Or at least we could have easily transported it if we had the truck, which we didn’t at the time. I gave the proprietors $20 and had them hold it for us until I could return.
On the way home we stopped at a big box store to try to find the same bed. That way we could compare prices and quickly determine if we hit the jackpot by saving money, or if we’re just losers who spent too much. We didn’t find anything similar, just the standard magic elf beds. I didn’t go home without picking something up, though. The store’s music was playing “Cherish” by the Association, and danged if it hasn’t been stuck in my head ever since. It’s been about 36 hours since my exposure, and I’m still humming “Cherish is the word I use to describe.” I tried listening to music I like, namely the latest Ben Folds on the way to pick up the bed, and at the other end of the spectrum I tried listening to Meatloaf, and not just any Meatloaf, but the Rear View Mirror song. I’m still whistling it. I’m whistling “You don’t know how many times I’ve wished that I had told you” right now. I need to just put it out of my head and concentrate on the most important thing about yesterday, namely that I found a suitable toddler bed at a suitable price. Of course the other important thing about yesterday is cherish is the word. Dang it!
posted by Matt at
9:37 PM
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