Garage Sale

If any of you are talking to my mom, will you tell her I went back to work? Said another way, I think I am going to regret telling my mom about this little “sabbatical” that I start in May. I came to this conclusion when I talked to her last week and she told me my summer plans:

“Okay. I thought about it and I think I am going to have you and Anne Louise come down for a week and help me clean out the attic and the basement and have a garage sale.”

Whoooooaaaaaaaaaaa there, little lady….I will fly around the world to meet you in Ireland, but spend a Friday morning filling out a thousand 99 cent sale stickers?? Followed by the graceful schlep of my childhood Pizza Hut oven from the attic to the garage? [EZ Bake ovens weren’t for everyone] Seriously? Have you never met me? I moved my own stuff across the country to save cleaning out the basement. And why now? Stuff doesn’t even fall out of YOUR closets when you open them…what’s the rush?

At least ALL of us with the summer off are roped into invited to the festivities =) [smiley face rule, mom]. My school-teaching sister will be there despite a nagging manual-labor allergy of her own. My mother told her she could “supervise”. Ummmmm, supervise who?? Am I demoted before I even arrive? The Individual Contributor of the Garage Sale hierarchy? THAT sounds like maximum manual labor. And just wait til Rita reads this – I’m going to spend the summer being a garage sale bitch, aren’t I??? Waaaahhh

The Garage Sales pitch [get it] finished with mom’s enthusiastic proclamation that “your nephew can have all the proceeds”. Sorry little man, I am keeping every bit of the $1.75 per hour that I earn.