The Garage Sale Diaries II

I promised Lucas that I would let him keep the money we made from whatever toys he could bear to sell. I don't think I maybe put it quite like that, but that was the jist.

So all day he popped in and out of the garage asking, "How much money are we making, Mom?" very loudly and easily within earshot of our browsers. "Wow!" he'd say in that exuberant 4-year-old manner of his, "We are making SO much money with all these PEOPLE here!" [gestures with both arms outstretched].

As the day wound down, and we were all alone in the garage, he sidled up to my spot at the card table I use as my sale desk. "Mom," he asked, calmer now, "Can we count our money now?"
"Oh honey," I started. I couldn't help myself, "You never count your money while you're sittin' at the table..."

The Garage Sale Diaries

Today was Day 1 of my three day yard sale extravaganza, neigh, MISSION to rid our home of as much baby clutter as possible. This is the big one, people, the bouncy seats, the swing, the furniture, the Bumbo, Jumperoo, Exersaucer...if it's not nailed down and reeks of baby, it's going.

Ron threatened to cry when the papasan swing sold (it hasn't yet), and I filled a tote with clothes I'm just not ready to part with yet ("Oooh, I remember when I found that little dog t-shirt at Baby Gap and the girl had to call THREE different stores to find one in his size...").

Baby steps to get rid of the baby stuff.