These Are the Sales in Your Neighborhood
We went garage sale-ing yesterday. This is a noteworthy event now, unlike last year when I went garage sale-ing on almost every Friday, Saturday, and occasional Thursday between April and October. Such determination is how I accumulated the stockpile of baby clothes that’s overtaken a corner of our basement. That, and I think the clothes have learned to procreate, possibly from the stuffed animals that have overtaken another basement corner.
The first time I tried loading and unloading all three children for a trip to the mall, I knew it would be a long time before I visited any garage sales without adult help. Never mind the headache of keeping track of all three children; forget the skyrocketing gas prices that leave me spending the equivalent of four second-hand three-piece like-new name-brand outfits during my multi-stop mornings driving across town; I just couldn’t bear to load and unload all three children by myself nine times or so in a morning. Considering the variability of each sale’s offerings, it’s too much effort to exert just to discover that those “baby clothes” a sale advertised means a moderately-stained Wal-Mart onesie for $1.50 and a bag of something that looks like tights for $4.
With the loading and unloading exertion in mind, I picked out a simple neighborhood garage sale. This is a type of sale where a neighborhood association advertises the sale for about a four square block area once a year. All homes within this area are encouraged to set up sales in their garages, and many do,* along with a few deadbeat garage sales on the fringes of the neighborhood that happily mooch off the association’s advertising. These sales are good to visit as they let you park and quickly visit several sales without having to reload the car. On the downside, since they’re annual, they tend to encourage residents to hold garage sales every year, usually by setting out the same junk that I didn’t want from last year’s neighborhood garage sale. Plus I don’t know what each seller offers, meaning I have to delve deep into the garage to determine they don’t have any kid’s clothes. This puts us at risk of being noticed by the proprietor and setting off the inevitable “Are those twins? Are they identical? What do you mean you don’t know?” line of questioning, which I really don’t have time to answer when somebody is cranky, somebody else is poopy, and somebody else is cranky and poopy.
I parked at the southeast corner of the neighborhood sale, unloaded everyone, and started moving. Ellie joined me this morning after skipping work a little early and making it clear that her husband really wanted to visit this neighborhood sale. As we started down the neighborhood, I began thinking I wouldn’t need help for these neighborhood sales; the twins were content to sit quietly in their stroller, or fuss for their pacifier at worst, and I handled Abbie by myself last year, so how hard could she be this year?
When we hit the first garage sale, it was clear that she’d learned a few escape tricks in the off-season. While Ellie simultaneously browsed and pushed the twins, I simultaneously glanced at a few items and chased Abbie to make sure she wasn’t hurting herself or, worse, damaging items for sale. She was so fidgety, that I couldn’t even thumb through a box of slightly torn clothing for a dime unless Ellie took charge of watching her run away. It didn’t sink in how horrible she was behaving until I let go of her for ten seconds to pull money from my wallet, and she ran down the driveway and into the path of an oncoming van. Granted the van was extremely alert, still a half-block away, and was moving slowly from having just pulled onto the street so she was in no real danger, but I ran down the driveway as fast as I could to catch her while feeling like the World’s Worst Parent.
After that I vowed to never let go of her for any longer than absolutely necessary while out in public until she shows the capability to follow directions to my satisfaction, probably sometime around her 16th birthday. I also vowed to never try taking all three children garage sale-ing with adult help.
The rest of the sale went well. We bought plenty of clothes, picked up a little exercise, and nobody got hurt. We also answered the question, “Are they twins?” at least a dozen times before turning back to the car halfway through the neighborhood. Abbie was cranky and poopy.
* This neighborhood sale advertised 50+ homes, though some of those just set a couple pieces of furniture in the driveway with price tags.
The first time I tried loading and unloading all three children for a trip to the mall, I knew it would be a long time before I visited any garage sales without adult help. Never mind the headache of keeping track of all three children; forget the skyrocketing gas prices that leave me spending the equivalent of four second-hand three-piece like-new name-brand outfits during my multi-stop mornings driving across town; I just couldn’t bear to load and unload all three children by myself nine times or so in a morning. Considering the variability of each sale’s offerings, it’s too much effort to exert just to discover that those “baby clothes” a sale advertised means a moderately-stained Wal-Mart onesie for $1.50 and a bag of something that looks like tights for $4.
With the loading and unloading exertion in mind, I picked out a simple neighborhood garage sale. This is a type of sale where a neighborhood association advertises the sale for about a four square block area once a year. All homes within this area are encouraged to set up sales in their garages, and many do,* along with a few deadbeat garage sales on the fringes of the neighborhood that happily mooch off the association’s advertising. These sales are good to visit as they let you park and quickly visit several sales without having to reload the car. On the downside, since they’re annual, they tend to encourage residents to hold garage sales every year, usually by setting out the same junk that I didn’t want from last year’s neighborhood garage sale. Plus I don’t know what each seller offers, meaning I have to delve deep into the garage to determine they don’t have any kid’s clothes. This puts us at risk of being noticed by the proprietor and setting off the inevitable “Are those twins? Are they identical? What do you mean you don’t know?” line of questioning, which I really don’t have time to answer when somebody is cranky, somebody else is poopy, and somebody else is cranky and poopy.
I parked at the southeast corner of the neighborhood sale, unloaded everyone, and started moving. Ellie joined me this morning after skipping work a little early and making it clear that her husband really wanted to visit this neighborhood sale. As we started down the neighborhood, I began thinking I wouldn’t need help for these neighborhood sales; the twins were content to sit quietly in their stroller, or fuss for their pacifier at worst, and I handled Abbie by myself last year, so how hard could she be this year?
When we hit the first garage sale, it was clear that she’d learned a few escape tricks in the off-season. While Ellie simultaneously browsed and pushed the twins, I simultaneously glanced at a few items and chased Abbie to make sure she wasn’t hurting herself or, worse, damaging items for sale. She was so fidgety, that I couldn’t even thumb through a box of slightly torn clothing for a dime unless Ellie took charge of watching her run away. It didn’t sink in how horrible she was behaving until I let go of her for ten seconds to pull money from my wallet, and she ran down the driveway and into the path of an oncoming van. Granted the van was extremely alert, still a half-block away, and was moving slowly from having just pulled onto the street so she was in no real danger, but I ran down the driveway as fast as I could to catch her while feeling like the World’s Worst Parent.
After that I vowed to never let go of her for any longer than absolutely necessary while out in public until she shows the capability to follow directions to my satisfaction, probably sometime around her 16th birthday. I also vowed to never try taking all three children garage sale-ing with adult help.
The rest of the sale went well. We bought plenty of clothes, picked up a little exercise, and nobody got hurt. We also answered the question, “Are they twins?” at least a dozen times before turning back to the car halfway through the neighborhood. Abbie was cranky and poopy.
* This neighborhood sale advertised 50+ homes, though some of those just set a couple pieces of furniture in the driveway with price tags.
posted by Matt at
11:02 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home