Sunday, June 20, 2010

Bringing her home one dollar (fifty cents? you take fifty cents?) at a time

It's midnight and I have been up since 5am so why in the world am I blogging?

Cause I'm an idiot, but we've established that in prior posts.

Why have I been up since 5am?

Because we had ourselves another Operation Bring Bethie Home Garage Sale this morning. And all day. At 3:00, as he hauled everything back into the garage with literal salt trails from sweating on his shirt, I saw them, they were white, and they stunk, Walker pointed out, "You realize we've worked ten hours on this garage sale, right?"

$820 later, it was worth it, my friends. Because in all my career of female dominated jobs, including my currently held position, I ain't never made no $82 an hour.

(Sometimes I like to go a little crazy with bad grammar and double negatives.) (Excuse me.) (It's the only rush I get from sinning anymore.)

I announced a couple of weeks ago that we were going to have another garage sale and I guess I caught everyone right when they were in a serious early summer-cleanout/nesting/if-I-don't-get-rid-of-some-stinking-toys-I-am-going-to-lose-my-mind mode because oh my skull.

This is not a still from an episode of Hoarders.

This was my garage. And this before Amy brought over 4,573 children's books and 868 stuffed animals. And Mardon brought over her recently gone to Heaven, very fashionable mother-in-law's wardrobe.

It was before my friend Sue brought me over an entire girls' bedroom suite with gorgeous 22 month old Josie, who came from you-know-where. And before Stephanie brought over half the inventory of Toys R Us, or perhaps it was her playroom.

It was after Mary Grace gave me three golf bags, a TV, and a PlayStation 2, and Stacey drove across town to bring me a highchair, but before I had to tell Jen that I can't even come to pick up the crib and stuff because a) we don't have time and b) my husband is about to kill me for sending him all over town in his cool black pickup truck fetching various items from strangers' 100 degree garages.

So bright and early this morning, at the buttcrack of dawn, we hauled the loot onto the drive and they soon arrived with dollar bills in hand, ready to haggle me down from $2 to $1. And while we're on the subject of buttcracks. I saw more than my share today.

None of my 'clientele' appeared to share the same philosophy as I regarding the concealment of the muffin top, you know, the roll of fat that pops out above your jeans. No baby doll tops or mom jeans for them, un uh. In fact, they were flat-out flaunting their muffin tops. They had earned that muffin top, and they were proud of that muffin top, and they were gonna make sure we were proud of that muffin top.

Clearly, I need to switch cultures.

Talking to Garage Sale People is one of my very favorite parts of garage sales. At one point today I looked around at the very elderly woman buying white yes white Birkenstocks, to the nice lady who was DEEEEELIGHTED to pay $5 for the box of ugly doorknobs that my friend Hazel couldn't bear to keep in her new house, to the man who asked me if I had any casino chips, because he collects casino chips, all kinds of casino memorabilia in fact, and thought to myself, everyone of these oddballs reflects the image and likeness of God. And I giggled. God is so cool.

And after I took one of those best-hot-showers-ever and counted up the proceeds of the ten hour sweat fest, I was really realizing how cool God is. And how blessed we are by friends who are so delighted to help us bring our baby girl home.

If I only had about 19 more of these, this adoption would be paid for!!

Now, I'd be insane and my husband would no longer be speaking to me, but the adoption would be paid for!

Aaaaaaand I have to be at church in eight hours.
Night night.


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