Permission to sell *crap*

In an effort to reduce, reuse and recycle, I held a garage sale this weekend.  I had been putting this off for months and I just finally had enough with having to walk into my garage and trying to maneuver around crap e-v-e-r-y-w-h-e-r-e.  So...I drove my butt to city hall (because in the city I live in you need to have a 'Garage Sale Permit'. How weird is that? Whatever!) and got my little pink pass 'permission' to sell my crap.  I was so excited and at the same time I thought "who the hell is going to buy this stuff?" You'd be surprised! 

I had strewn about two large bags of toys across the living room floor to sort through.  Then my eldest (6) decided to join in.  I was so proud of her because she was such a good sport about getting rid the overload of toys (until she let me in on her inside plan).  

Sabrina- "Mommy, can I sort the toys that I want to sell?"

Me- "Sure sweetie.  Are you okay with getting rid of this stuff?"

Sabrina- "Yes, Mommy.  You know why?"

Me- "Why baby?"

Sabrina- "Because I'll just ask my Grandma to buy me more stuff for Christmas." (she smiles)

Me- "Hmm...we'll see."

Conniving child of mine! I could not believe it! Oh well... 

Of course, on Saturday morning, my youngest (27 months) decides that my boob is her sanctuary.  Then I get a text from my Mom-

Mom: "Nani, are you still doing the garage sale?"

Me: "Of course. Why?"

Mom: "I'm outside waiting"

Me: "Okay.  Just trying to get this kid off my boob.  Out in a sec."

When I finally retrieved my nipple back, I slowly and quietly crawled out of bed and had darling hubby be my warm body stand in (minus the boob--that would be really hairy gross!)

So with the help of my Mom,we set up, priced up, and cleaned up (whatever didn't sell was donated). The total for all my *crap* = $363.00.  I feel so liberated, light and crap free (and with permission to do so!).  Now that that is over with, I can navigate my way through my garage without feeling like I'm going to hyperventilate.  Except that now that the garage is a 'little less' cluttered, I have to deal with seeing more of and tip toeing around the icky millipedes that have decided to move into every crevice of my house. Yuck-o!  My girls think that they're disgusting and darling hubby thinks we're all just plain crazy.  But hey, I still sold my crap!