I say it EVERY year, I will not do another yard sale ever again. EVER. Seriously, ever again. Then the next summer comes around and I see all of this crap accumulating and I think, I could sell this all on Facebook.
Then you remember that half of the time people are no-shows and the thought of driving to various meeting places all over town is a nightmare. The next option is to put all of the crap you no longer want onto various tables and things you're pretending are tables and hoping people buy your crap. This year my mom and I were at it again and it's like it all came back to us why we hate it.
The days leading up to the sale were stressful. My house was a disaster.
I ate a lot of this to get myself through it.
Then it comes to be sale day and I realize that I am going to have to entertain my two big kids and a not-quite-three-month old baby for 8 hours, in a yard, while selling our crap. I had no plan and honestly, that wasn't even that bad. It really wasn't.
The worst is seeing the cheapest jerks ever trying to screw you even more. I had tons of really nice kids clothes, with tags on them, priced at $.50. You can't buy brand new jeans for $.50 but wouldn't you know, there is always some asshole saying, "Would you take a quarter?". No. No I will not because as you can see from the TAG STILL ATTACHED, those were $36, you can absolutely pay the $.50. Jerk.
I also remembered that somehow, my mom and I attract the strangest people. My mom actually abandoned me in the middle of a story this strange girl was telling me about her teddy bears and how they really do walk around her house at night and that's why she's buying dishes, because they need the dishes. Whatever. I don't care if you or the bears are using them, take your new set of dishes and get out of the yard. No, I don't care to see your toe infection.
Contrary to popular belief, I'm not always an asshole. I really do feel bad for people and I'm genuinely too damn nice for my own good. It never works out for me.
Meanwhile, after two days of yard sale glory, I came home exhausted. Not only was I tired, but the kids were as well. None of us were at our best when we came home, so when I told Jackson we absolutely were not going to watch movies on the couch but in fact, we were going to all go to bed early because the spontaneous crying was too much.
I found this on my dresser when I went to bed.
Jackson clearly took it back, he presumably got happy, and this has made a triumphant return.
Needless to say, he was out like a light by 7 pm Saturday night so clearly he was over tired.
Sunday wasn't much better. Both kids have all of a sudden gotten this weird entitlement thing where they think they are too good to have dinner at home. Now granted, I haven't cooked much this week. It's been too hot, I've been exhausted digging things out of closets, the basement, and the garage for the yard sale, and I'm over it. Totally over it. We've had sandwiches or cereal basically every night. Now they are demanding we go out to eat.
I have half a mind to give them hot dogs every day and make a real dinner for Matt and I just to be a jerk. I vaguely remember their behavior go downhill as summer winds down. Which scares me considering all of our fun family things are happening in the next month or so, so they can either go really well or really terribly. I'm not going to mention that to Matt otherwise he'll cancel it all and it's really me being punished. HA!