I was supposed to be working from home today, but M and I indulged in a sleep-in until 9am and I pottered around for another hour or so, getting ready to get stuck into some report typing. Then Mme (my French co-worker) called to say her next door neighbour was having a garage sale in the morning with heaps of baby gear and did I want to go around today for a preview? This is a 50 minute drive away, but it was a beautiful day. So off I went. M had already taken the new car so I tooled along in Small Brother’s wheels, my head throbbing gently in the sun coming through the window in the roof (it’s a targa-top with the roof visors long disappeared). I put my hat on.
When I arrived the woman had to leave in 15 minutes for an appointment, so she and Mme stood there while I sort of flailed around asking how much the carseat was, could I look at the portacot, which toys had been good for her kids – because, hey – I’m still in general denial, I just like to bargain hunt. It was one of those icky situations where I was obviously expected to buy something as she’d got out all this stuff for me to look at. Meanwhile, I could tell that this stuff was not going to be normal old cheap garagey-sale stuff.
I was fairly impressed by the portacot thing – in the way that someone who has never seen one before could be. It seemed to work with a two flicks of the wrist – where there had been a sort of upright rectangular thing, there was suddenly something that looked cotlike. They were looking at me. Not tapping their feet – on the outside. I caved. [sigh] Sixty dollars later… (surely that isn’t a ‘garage sale’ price…surely).
Went back next door to Mme’s and she had got out a whole lot of her kids old toys. About three quarters of them were really cool. I put them into a pile. I thought she was going to GIVE them to me. Another awkward situation, due to my inability to say I AM NOT INTERESTED AND I DO NOT FEEL OBLIGED – and I quietly haemorrhaged more money, inwardly apologising to PartyPie as I thought of how grumpy I was going to be whenever I recalled how I could have spent the cash on more important things like some decent red wine or some exciting champagne. I drove limply to my mothers, and was salved by her offer to pay for the portacot (yes, I am not only malleable when faced with people expecting me to buy their stuff, but also when people offer to pay for it on my behalf). So the day was saved, and I slunk home to trailerland, instructing myself to say NO NO NO NO and I DON’T THINK SO, NO – the next time this stuff happens to me. Gah.