... garage sale on Saturday.
'Cuz I wanted to exhaust myself right before I returned to work. That's fun, you know.
So, we did it. We had lots of stuff to sell. Stuff that didn't fit into our new house, even though the new house is bigger. Stuff that didn't match our new house, 'cuz our new house is prettier. And stuff that just wasn't up with the times. 'Cuz we've got us a new house that IS up with the times. Love my new house. Don't love my stuff.
So, garage sale we had.
And afterwards, Rick and I sat down at the local McDonald's and talked about our morning.
Foremost on our minds was how much money we made. Okay, foremost on MY mind, anyway. And I asked Rick, "So, how much do you think we made?" (I'd already counted.)
"Ten dollars?"
"Seriously?"
"Fifteen?"
"Are you crazy? We sold our patio table for $20."
"So, we made twenty?"
"Think again. We sold our patio table, all of my mom's crystal, your printer, lots of clothes, several clocks, all of the tools in that big basket, your old shower chair... Shall I go on?"
"So, $25?"
"Really? We also sold those end tables, that giant fruit picture that hung on our old dining room wall and all of those Hawaiian dishes."
"I guess I was closer with $20."
And then I agreed and decided to pocket the other $400.
"You're right, Honey. We only made $20. Better luck next time."
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