Well, day one of the Garage Sale of Doom is now over.
For those of you who don't know this about me, I HATE GARAGE SALES.
I know, it's nearly blasphemy in this neck of the woods. Garage Sale-ing is THE national past time in this area.
However, I HATE them.
I've spent the past month blocking out the fact that the entire family has conspired against me to put this sale together. For months, they've been culling the excess possessions from their closets and cubbie holes and talking about how much money they were going to make. They avidly sacrificed any and all little treasures with the great ambition of getting enough money to take a really fun vacations this summer (or get a trampoline, which is Peeps dearest ambition in life at the moment). Piles of used goods filled the porch as teenagers argued over how much to mark things for and who had the better handwriting.
I turned a blind eye, pretended to be deaf and stubbornly refused to discuss anything remotely resembling a garage sale.
With uncanny accuracy, I predicted the final outcome of all this excitement and planning. I knew that all this enthusiasm was just a temporary condition. When the real sale started, kids would evaporate in every direction, hubby would head to work and I'd be stuck doing the one thing in the world that I hate the most - manning a garage sale.
I have to admit, Bubba toughed out the whole day with me. Peeps lost her ambition after lunch, The Girl Formerly Known as Dancing Diva pooped out at 11:30 (her ankle hurts - boo hoo) and Hockeyman decided shopping at garage sales was far more fun than selling stuff and abandoned me for several hours while he cruised the area looking for a drum set.
Ergo, I am sunburned, exhausted, have a headache and know why I have such a supernatural hatred of garage sales.
Cuz' Mom gets stuck with all the work.