A garage sale

On Saturday we had a neighborhood garage sale.  I spent the week sorting through the basement looking to get rid of stuff we never use, I don't want, and which is taking up space.   I made a good dent and and was happy to be hauling things into the garage to sell late Friday night.  The sale on Saturday was a success even if we didn't move all our merchandise.  We did get rid of a large filing cabinet that needed to be refinished and was taking up lots of space, and I was glad to pack up what didn't sell to take to the thrift store Monday morning.

We did, however, acquired a rather large train table my friend Heidi was selling.  She offered it to me several months ago because she wanted to get it out of her basement and she knew Brandt would love it.  He plays with it every time we go to her house.  I, too, knew Brandt would love it, but we have no place for it, so I said no.  On Saturday, I worked pretty hard at keeping Brandt otherwise occupied so he wouldn't see it and realize it was for sale, but I was not entirely successful.  Brandt saw it, complete with lots of trains and track, and he called me over.

"Katherine! Come here!" he called.  "This train is only $7.  Do you have any money?  Can I have it?"

Of late, Brandt has been calling me and Kent by our first names.  It is somewhat unsettling to have him call me by my first name, even though it is my name.  It would be more unsettling if he was calling me something other than my first name, like Ruth or Jan or Tiffany, but still, I think I should just be "Mom."  

Anyway, the train set was actually $75 and the train table another $75.  I explained that the problem was not with how much the train and table cost, but that we had nowhere to put it.  Brandt began to cry.  He said, "I love it.  I want it," as he sobbed into my chest.  He continued, "We could put it in my room."

"There is no room in your room."

"We could put it in the family room," he sobbed.

"No, there is not enough room there either."

"Please.  I love it. Sob, sob, sob."

He cried the cry of the broken-hearted.  He was going to be devastated if the train table went to live anywhere else but our house.  So I did what any mother who loves her son would do.  

I bought it.

And so we put it in the basement in the space I had cleared out when I hauled stuff up to the garage to sell.  Instead of making a dent in the contents of the basement, we acquired a really big table and a whole bunch of train and track.  And instead of making $160 at the garage sale, we made $60.  (Heidi gave me a deal.)  And instead of having a heart-broken son, I have a happy engineer who spent the rest of the afternoon in the basement driving trains around.  He said goodnight to them before he went to bed, and he said good morning to them when he woke up.  And if I can keep him and Blythe out of the rest of the stuff in the basement that they shouldn't be into, I will also have someplace to send the children to play when I need three minutes peace as we now have enough trains that Brandt can share.

 

Post edit: The children have gone downstairs every day to play with the trains.  This helps me feel better about the money spent.  However, in addition to playing with the trains, the children get into things they should not be playing with--toothpaste in our emergency supplies, the glue gun, nails and other tools, Otter Pops, clothing, and Primary supplies.  Every day I have a new mess to clean up.  So I question whether I have gained anything through the purchase of the train table, but I don't suppose that was really the goal.