Today was possibly the BEST yardsale day EVER! I am still laughing so hard... almost too hard to write.
We started late. My two biggest boys were picked up for transport to a math competition at 7:40. As their mom, I felt compelled to stay in the house until they departed. As it was an academic competition, I felt the need to provide them with a nutritious breakfast. Henry ate two pouches of Quaker Maple and Brown Sugar oatmeal and Louie ate cheesecake leftover from last night's post-junior-high-dance event at Denny's.
With the Big Boys out of our hair we could start our day of yardsale adventure!
JoJo had a sleep over last night so we were yardsaling with some extra kids: Kelcey and Addie. Kelcey was my charge until 12:30 because her mom worked at Aldi until noon. Addie had to be home at 9am so she could drive to Peoria or something. We also had Oscar (6) and Donny (10). That's 5 kids plus me. Not ideal, I know. I anticipated a few extra expenses in order to keep them in line.
I started the morning with about $45 in cash. I knew I'd need to hit an ATM before I got rolling because something perfectly wonderful and expensive could pop up on any driveway, in any church basement, in any yard in the Metro East area. We live at 95th. The first sale on my list was at 81st. The ATM is at 77th. No problem.
Except there WAS a problem. 81st is one of those streets that doesn't reach all the way to Main. You are driving along, you see 82nd. That's not it. You slow down and wait for the next one. The next one is 80th. What the hell happened to 81st?! I turned on 80th, jogged left on a side street, when I announced to the crowd: "Hey! Jacob lives on this street!" Donny replies: "Yeah. But he's moving."
Well what do you do when you move? You have a yardsale!
Just as we pull up to the address this conversation is happening. I see Jacob's sister sitting on the driveway with her friend, Jessica. We honk enthusiastically and screech to a halt at the curb.
Since it's still only 8am they have plenty of great stuff. I got a perfect little camera bag for yardsaling. The kids scored BIG with a bunch of Build-A-Bear outfits for $1.50 each and a few stuffed animals who can wear the outfits. Donny and Oscar didn't find anything special which explains their nasty facial expressions.
We stopped, zippedy-quick, at an ATM on the way to our next sale: the church at Royal Heights Rd. and 161. Is this First Presbyterian? I'm not sure. A church rummage sale is hit-or-miss. Blessed Sacrament's sale every June is SPECTACULAR but many are sad, small, pitiful affairs which offer no quality merchandise.
First Presbyterian was rockin'! It was only 8:15 as we got out of our car. Already, shoppers were strutting vainly back to their vehicles with their purchases. One woman lugged a tote laden with choice clothing. One man hauled a gigantic ceramic turkey and God knows what-all.
"Run, Kids, run!" I shouted.
As we entered the gymnasium, the kids scattered. It's a church, right? So they are safe. I wandered without intent, knowing my yardsale dollars would be spent on someone else's discarded toys. Oscar found a cool, metal lock-box and a pair of plastic rackets. Addie and Kelcey found stuffed animals without which they could not live. Donny wandered for a while, assuming there was nothing of interest in the entire gym. To his great surprise, he found these excellent magician/clown props:
Every time I look at these things I start to laugh. He is already such a comedian and has been taking magic lessons... he even has a kit for making balloon animals. All he needed was this hat/tie combo for his professional magic/comedian act. Stay tuned to Comedy Central. Donny Holm is on the rise!
JoJo. She too found some stuffed animals. They were white and fluffy and had big, glassy eyes. They were as cute as any stuffed animals you have ever encountered.
But one was different. It was a maternal stuffed animal. It was (and is) a stuffed animal that gives birth to baby stuffed animals through its little, stuffed animal vagina.
Here is JoJo holding the mother:
And here is the stuffed mother giving birth in the back seat of my car:
Unbelievable. I know.
The only thing MORE unbelievable than a stuffed animal vagina is the phenomenally retro chair I found as we waited in line to check out.
The check-out line was long: a solid 25 customers deep. Along the way there was nothing but knick knacks. Country oak mug holders, angel planters, and a few sarcastic coffee mugs lined our path to the registers.
But then I saw it. The most orange, vinyl, retro chair of all time. On it were a velour sweatshirt and a dime store necklace. Could it have been found already? Did some other shopper claim it by draping her accessories upon its shiny plastic seat? I inquired of the shoppers around me: "IS this yours?", "Do you think anyone has claimed this?"
"Look, " they said, "the price tag is still on it. Just take off the price sticker and buy it!"
Ten dollars. The most excellent orange, vinyl, retro chair of all time was only ten dollars. This could have easily been a favorite seat in the Brady Bunch household. Undoubtedly, it was sitting in a very-old-lady's basement for a very-long-time.
My grand total at the First Presyterian check-out was $17. Seventeen dollars for a wealth of stuffed animals and the world's most perfect orange, vinyl, retro chair. I threw in an extra dollar to make it eighteen. I felt so lucky. Here is the strong and gentlemanly clerk carrying The Perfect Chair to my car:
Remember, I was shopping with five kids. Now we had The Perfect Chair. It was crowded. Here's how we handled the logistics:
Oscar sat in the Way Back with The Chair.
Moving on...
From the church we had to race to Adie's house. She was due home at 9am, as you recall. Due to my expert driving and shopping skills, we pulled into her driveway at precisely 8:59, packed up her new stuffed animals in a reusable Target tote, and got her in the house by 9:00.
Off to Lebanon Ave.
Except I went to Lebanon Rd.
Ave. is different from Rd., as you might imagine. I lost a few minutes on this mistake, but we soon arrived at Whiteside School where the local chapter of Mothers and More was having a yard sale. This was very well publicized, well marked, well staffed, and well run. I understand the woman to thank is Joanie (or maybe Jodie?) There were at least ten signs directing me from the major thoroughfare to the gymnasium. An efficient system of checks and tallies ensured proper payment. The merchandise was top quality, clean, and well-organized. They enhanced their profits with a small $1 donation at the door. The workers all wore red and were easily identifiable. They were polite and enthusiastic. Here they are:
Only two things kept this from being the PERFECT sale. First, there were no baked goods. Ladies, we get up early to shop your sale, we need an opportunity for sugary sustenance. Second, while I admire your aggressive pricing (an understandable vehicle for top-dollar earnings), you assume a higher level of responsibility for quality when you price so high. The "buyer beware" ethic of most yardsales comes into question when prices are closer to retail. My boy, Donny, was excited to buy the Turbo Fill Blaster, a sprinkler/squirt-gun combo, a weapon that offered exquisite brother-blasting power. It was $9.50, a steep price for a rummage sale, but worth it for total big-brother domination. Guess what? The Turbo Fill Blaster is a dud. It doesn't fill, doesn't blast, and does nothing I would describe as "turbo". Donny had faith in the Mothers and More infrastructure and found himself out $9.50, almost a dollar for each year of his age. (If one of you lovely M&M ladies reads this blog it would be very good PR if you would comment and let Donny know how he can recoup his $9.50.)
The well-organized Mothers and More directed us to the MOPS (Mothers of Pre-Schollers) sale at a different church nearby. This is known to those of us who attended college before having children as "cross-marketing" or something. The MOPS sale was not as professional but they had a bake-sale. I found a few wonderful toddler dresses for my little friend, Eleanor, whose 3rd birthday is next week. She likes all things pink and purple and appreciates cheap, previously-worn clothing above all. Also, shoes. She has a shoe fetish. And she has crazy red hair and growls like a troll. And she is unusually small for her age. I'd be surprised if she has reached 20 pounds yet. I think maybe she is half elf, her mother having had some sort of summertime affair at the north pole or something.
Then the kids were hungry so we went to Burger King. Have you been to the newly remodeled Burger King by St Clair Mall? It is less crappy than it used to be and the service is less horrible. My chicken sandwich minus mayo was delicious and my fries were hot and crisp. The ladies' bathroom was clean. There was a free-whopper-offer on the back of my receipt. I called an 800 number, answers questions for five minutes, and learned the code which will earn me a free Whopper next time I go to BK and order a drink and fries. Don't you pretty much get the sandwich free when you buy a drink and fries at cost but call it a "value meal"? Whatever. I was in a thrifty state of mind so I took the survey.
On the way home, after picking up Eleanor's sister at high school (a commitment I forgot I had made) we passed a local business of Belleville's West End, The Cookie House, which has recently gone out of business. They had a sign out front, a sign which used to advertise the day's specials. Today it says, "GARAGE SALE".
Skiv!! (Please refer to previous posts for a definition of "skiv".)
The Cookie House lady, Jeannie, is selling everything she used for her business: dishes, cake plates, tables, chairs, industrial oven, ribbon, shelves... also everything she used for the upkeep of this little house-turned-restaurant: wheelbarrow, lawn mower, etc. Here is Laura testing out the lawnmower:
It didn't work that well, actually. At forty bucks it would be a deal only if you or your husband are SUPER strong.
At The Cookie House I bought some bowls and plates. The bowls are flat-bottomed and perfectly sized for breakfast cereal. The plates are bean-shaped and are the perfect banana holder to compliment a bowl of cereal. Or sandwich and soup if it is lunchtime. Or pasta and bread if it is dinner. Get it? But the greatest thing I found at The Cookie House is this:
It is one of those things that bakers put the baked cookies on after they come out of the industrial oven. Or at Ikea, the rack where you place your dirty tray. I bought the frame and ten trays for $120. My plan, which you can view in action on this website in a few days, is to use it to organize shoes in my coat closet. When I bought it it was still covered in cookie crumbs and frosting. Donny scrubbed it down for me in the cold. He was very depressed about the Un-Turbo Fill Un-Blaster, and he wanted to earn back the money he had wasted. He did a fine job and as soon as I'm done blogging I will lug this thing in the house and start organizing our family's footwear.
I must thank the Cookie Lady's boys who helped me load my car.
My Perfect Chair was taking up all of the cargo space and I had to make two trips. Laura, who was with us today and will undoubtedly blog about her own purchases, helpfully took a photo of my butt.
Apparently I should be exercising instead of yardsaling. Priorities, People!
Before I go I want to offer a few more photos of The Perfect Chair:
Until next week, Readers!
Nancy
