A Lesson in Math and Margaritas. Test on Thursday.

This weekend, I learned the best lesson of my adult life. The Lesson of Yard Sales Are Awesome. All the thumbs, way up, awesome. That is almost all of the awesome. The Lesson of Yard Sales Are Awesome especially applies if you are having a baby, or have already had a baby, or just have a weird love of baby stuff for no reason. Let’s discuss.

Adam and I took a trip down to visit my person, Brittany, and her husband, Jon. When I say that Brittany is my person, I mean that she is the best person and she is mine and you should all be crazy jealous because YOU CANNOT HAVE HER SHE IS SPOKEN FOR. So Brittany, being my person and all, suggested we go to some yard sales in her area on Saturday morning. Let it be known that I am the opposite of a morning person, and you’ve gotta leave early if you want to score the good shit. Let it also be known that I do not do well when I shop in an unorganized location that also doesn’t have uniformed sales associates, because all of my ADD sees a million things and can’t focus on one. It just sees all of them and goes, “Over it.” So I didn’t expect to get much out of the activity, and really wasn’t super excited for it.


Me before I knew anything about the world.


Anypants, we leave around 9am to start our trip. Brittany’s sister came with us, we piled into Brittany’s SUV, and we were armed with a list of places to go. I am going to skip over everything and tell you that we kicked the ass and shit out of the day. By the time we got back home, Brittany’s car was filled and you couldn’t even see her sister in the backseat. And we barely paid anything for our amazing haul because yard sales are awesome. And no, this was not some junkfest with a bunch of dirty crap with the parts coming off and stuff. This was amazing crap, some with the tags still on. How amazing? Any moms or future moms, check this bitch out.



That is a Fisher-Price Rainforest Jumperoo. It is baby gold and was one of the things on my registry I had all my fingers crossed for, because I look at it and I see a few minutes a day where my son will be entertained and trapped, all at once, and I can do things like pee or brush my hair or drink a beer. And I found it, barely used, for eight motherbucket dollars. I got baby gold for less than the price of a fancy margarita. If I drink a fancy margarita every time I sit the baby in this thing, it pretty much pays for itself. I think that’s how the math works. I think. Whatever, I’ll be drunk and my baby will be jumping. Stadium-size wave in celebration of yard sales.


Now, yard sales are especially wonderful if you’ve got kids, for the very reason that you can find barely touched baby gold for cheaper than a sad little dinner-for-one that doesn’t even come with a margarita. Babies and kids grow out of stuff really freaking fast. I saw so many clothes with the tags still on them, because some kid grew out of a ton of crap before he even wore it. And it’s a million times better than a thrift store or Craigslist because the yard seller has spent their morning hauling all their stuff onto their lawn in the hopes of never seeing it again. They are so ready to just be rid of their own crap so they can buy more crap that they will sell you next year for very cheap again.


Among my other treasures, I also brought home an almost brand-new baby bouncer, a toaster oven for my sisters, books for the genius child, baby clothes, disposable changing pads, some baby toys, and some other stuff. All for less than $30. Do you guys even know how many margaritas all my savings could buy? Do you have any idea? I sure don’t, but I am pumped as hell about it.


Probably this many plus eight.


Guys, do yourselves a favor. All those margaritas you haven’t been buying lately because you are being responsible with your money? Give them a loving home by going to yard sales and saving a buttload of cash. Do it soon before Sarah McLaughlin makes a horrible commercial about homeless margaritas.


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