I've been working and shopping at the same Children's Toy and Clothing Resale gig for quite a while. 12 years, in fact. Once I was turned onto the benefits that buying used children's clothing could bring (i.e. extra money for wine and coffee), I became a die-hard volunteer. Every September and March, you will find me waiting in line to stampede the fairgrounds' gates; eager for my chance at AMAZING DEALS.
This year was no different.
I stood in line in the light drizzle, dressed for success: comfortable shoes, t-shirt that breathes, and pants that allow freedom of movement, but still have pockets for the wad of cash I use to pay for my loot. I was armed with my laundry basket on a belt (to pull along behind me when the pile of shoes, jeans and winter gear becomes too heavy to carry) and no purse or jacket to weigh me down.
The doors opened, and I wasted no time. No hemming and hawing at the tables for me. You have to know what you want and where to find it.
I zeroed in on the clothing for Justin. At the age of 12, his clothing is the most expensive in stores, so the greatest money is to be saved at that section. I totally scored on jeans, long sleeved tees and a dress shirt for this winter. Doing a happy little jig, I moved on down the table, and found that there were plenty of winter shirts and tees for Evan, too. Feeling quite proud of myself, I turned around to check out the shoe situation before hitting the girls' department.
Aha! Winter boots for Corinne and they're only... $2.50!! Ka-Ching! I could practically FEEL the condensation from the bottles of wine in my hand as I squatted down to snatch those boots up...
And then I had the strangest sensation...
Almost as if my skin were being drawn upon by a pen, all along the backside of my leg and rear...
The telltale "rrrrriiiippppp!!!!" had me freezing in mid-boot-grab. When I reached around behind me to survey the damage, my hand felt nothing but the soft fuzz of my bare thigh.
Oh yeah. And my ass, as well.
That's right. I had ripped my pants. But not just "ripped" them. Nay. My beloved capris had shredded themselves into a gap so wide that my entire thigh and left cheek were now COMPLETELY exposed.
In a room full of women who were all trying to get MY DEALS.
What to do?
Well, in a situation such as this, there is only one answer: Go with it, girl, for there are no tears in Resale.
It was lucky for me that I had shopped for Justin's clothing first. There was a soft, long-sleeved tee on top that easily tied around my waist. I tugged it low enough that no flesh could be glimpsed and I continued about my merry way, securing the jeans and Christmas outfit that Corinne needed in addition to a cute ballet leotard and a puzzle on the U.S. states, all the while enjoying a cool breeze down below.
Because that's how I roll.
Note: View of "cheeks" may be slightly altered to remain PG and to spare your precious eyes.
Poetry Month in our Homeschool - Sure, you *can *force a kid to read a book. Any book, actually. But you *can't* force a child to love to read. You can't push and push literature on them a...
3 years ago