The Origins of the Garage Sale of Awesome from a Spousal Perspective.
Guest post from Carmelle Whiteley
It must have started farther back than I am willing to acknowledge. If I had to pinpoint one exact day, I would say it was about three years ago. Our first born was still a baby, and Chris took The Boy out garage sale-ing on a Saturday morning in one of those baby backpacks. That is to say it was a backpack you put your baby in and not a miniature backpack. At any rate, I desperately needed some time alone in the house by myself, however, he returned home much sooner than I wanted.
Glancing out a window, I witnessed Chris running down the street toward our house carrying a MASSIVE box with The Boy bouncing up and down on his back.
You know all those videos on YouTube of children on Christmas morning receiving the present they have wished for and hoped for all year long? Those looks on their faces when they open the gift and discover what Santa brought them – kind of a cross between shock and elation and I-might-need-a-new-pair-of-pajama-bottoms-I’m-so-excited. Well, that was the look on Chris’ face. He came in the house and proceeded to tell me the most incredible deal he found on an entire lot of old video games. And all I could do was stare in wonderment at the smelly, old box busting with video games I have never seen or heard of and think, “How far did he run with both baby and box?”
Yes, I would say that was the start of Garage Sale of Awesome.
Or as Chris likes to call it: Our Retirement Plan. Or as I like to call it: My Quarterly Incentive Plan to Receive Lavish Gifts in Exchange for Limited (but not omitted) Nagging Because of Said Garage Sale of Awesome. But more on that another time…
Years later, we’ll be sitting at the dinner table trying to carry on a civil conversation over The Boy and The Girl screaming over their peas, and I’ll see a glazed look wash over Husband’s face. The wheels will start turning, and I know he’s disappeared to a far away land filled with Ninja Turtles and Nintendo and amazing garage sale-ing finds. Most times, I don’t mind so much. I know it’s his Happy Place.