I have been on a fall cleaning spree. I actually hate it when I go on these cleaning spree’s but once I get started I can’t stop myself. It started with my garage sale. I had diligently cleaned out the kids closets and dressers and found myself with 2 rubbermaid tubs full of clothes. Two days before the garage sale, we started cleaning out the garage. My idea was just to back the car out, sweep and set up my tables. My husband had other plans. His plans included completely taking everything out of the garage and neatly reorganizing it – it did yield at least 15 more garage sale items but it took an entire day.
Then came garage sale day. I have garage sales at least once a year but I am always amazed at the things people buy. My first sale… $1.35. His purchase…. a pair of old oil stained and rusty jumper cables, a box of votive candles and an old 2000 racing game for PlayStation. This is the point where my mind races to the game one of my police officers taught me. It’s 2am, you’re at WalMart and can only purchase three items. What three items will make the cashier raise her eyebrows at or question your intentions. So here I sit, the first sale of the day and I’ve already started to play the “what 3 things game.” It didn’t last very long though, as I watched car after car drive by and no one stopped. Then my mom came to watch the sale for me for an hour while I ran an errand. I came back to find she had sold the baby stroller, nearly half of Dawson’s clothes, snow boots, a dress, B’s Playstation and the rest of the old games and a mini crock pot. The minute I got back the shoppers fled the area. The only other thing I sold that day was a bicycle helmet to my neighbor. The next day was the day that amazed me though. I had a lady come and purchase some clothes, then she went back to her car and got more money. She had to have the Moon Shoes and a $2 fan. Of all the things I put out the one thing that I figured would end up in the Goodwill pile after the sale was the Moon Shoes. Then I had the lady and the cooler, an old Igloo cooler for $1. She asked 20 questions about the cooler before she bought it. It’s a cooler for $1 at a garage sale. If it doesn’t work out for you you’ve only lost $1. What I can’t figure out is why no one looked at the Radio Flyer Red wagon I had for sale. No one even gave it a passing glance, but the pop up dog crate (which doesn’t hold a bulldog – even as a puppy) and the brick dust covered baseball cleats flew off the table. I will never understand garage sales.
My cleaning didn’t stop after the garage sale though. Last weekend I cleaned out my truck. If anyone reading this has ever ridden in my truck you would understand that this is a major undertaking. The backseat could have probably been declared a HazMat disaster site. After donning my protective gear I took on the back seat. A lot of candy wrappers and half empty Gatorade Bottles and one half eaten pudding cup (chocolate of course) later, I could actually see the back seat. There was a Diet Coke can wedged under the passenger seat that took the Jaws of Life to remove. How do you wedge a Diet Coke can that far under a seat? Other items I located: a set of postcards from the Ride the Ducks attraction at Wisconsin Dells, a beach parking permit for Gulf Shores public beach, the Hurricane Evacuation Route for the state of Alabama, a recipe for Blondies, 3 stray Midol capsules, 2 Chuckie Cheese tokens, a dog bone and thirty six cents. The one thing I didn’t find… my cell phone which was the one thing I was looking for.
I have also cleaned out my daughters room, the dining room and most recently the refrigerator. The scariest of these was Teagan’s room – with the exception of the one unidentified leftover which went into the trash tupperware and all and the few remnants of the great maraschino cherry spill of 2008. In Teagan’s 7 years she has accumulated 21 years worth of junk. Her room alone took over four hours. There was a massive pile of Barbies with Polly Pockets and Little Pet shop mixed in. You can actually see her floor now.
But now I’m scared. The one thing I have left to face is the basement. The basement is the equivalent of the garage, backseat of the Blazer and Teagan’s room combined. Someone made a bomb filled with matchbox cars, fruit snack wrappers, Polly Pockets, crayons and stray socks and it has exploded in my basement. I will conquer the basement – eventually. Just maybe not tomorrow, or the next day or even next week. But someday I will clean out the basement. Or I could just wait for the President to declare it a national disaster area.