Overheard at the Thrift Store…

It’s been a busy week – but my to-do list is getting shorter!

One of the things on that list was to hit a few thrift stores for those last minute additions to the kid’s suitcases for their week away – a couple of t-shirts, some shorts, and a couple pair of capris.

Dagmar and I headed to Grant City to check out our favorite one there, arriving soon after they opened the doors for the day.

We had just started our search through the racks when an older lady came in carrying a sack and looking a bit frantic.

“Dorothy!” she said, “Have you sold that bag of clothes I brought in before?”

Dorothy (the lady working that afternoon) replied, “No, I don’t think so – I think they’re still sorting it out in the back – why?”

“Wilbur put the wrong bag in the car!” (She held out the bag she was carrying) “We brought home all the clothes that didn’t fit and donated  the bag with his best clothes in it! He tried to put his pants on this morning and he could barely close them!” our frantic woman said as she moved quickly through the store to the back room.

I was still speechless with surprise over this outburst, when, just a few minutes later an older gentleman came in slowly wearing some very tight pants, his rather large tummy hanging over the waistband.

Poor guy could hardly breath – it had to be Wilbur.

Dorothy just pointed to the back room, smiling.

We could all hear the excited voices of his wife – the frantic woman – as she feverishly pawed through the donated bags in the back room.

We all heard her shouts of joy when the lost bag was recovered.

We all watched her triumphant exit from the thrift store with the correct bag in hand – followed rather slowly by her husband Wilbur who still looked as though a deep breath would burst a seam.

Then and only then did I laugh.

A Trip to the Dentist (and a little upchuck…)

It just wasn’t our day.

Maybe it was feeling the after-effects of several hard days of packing. Maybe it was because of the election results. Maybe it was the weather.

Whatever it was, today just didn’t go as planned.

We are in the final stages of moving into my beautifully renovated farm house and this week has been very hectic.

The last thing we needed was something else on the schedule… but… months ago we had scheduled a trip to the dentist for the entire family for today. We were so proud of ourselves at the time, actually getting the entire family in one trip.

Who knew that this week would end up being the craziest one yet?

My husband was frantically trying to lay tile so it would have a chance to set while we were gone. The kids and I were loading things up and trying to get them moved before the rain started falling. And in all of our hurry, we were running a little late.

So my husband decided to take the back roads to the dentist to save some time. It seemed like a good idea at the time… but… the back roads are very hilly and curving. The kids call them “roller coaster” roads.

My husband was really booking it trying to make up time. Up..down..around a curve…up…down…another curve….

We were cruising right along when about half way into our trip I hear from the back seat “Gross! Buddy just threw up!”

Oh dear. I grabbed the Subway napkins in the glove compartment and handed them back then climbed up over the seat to take a look.

The poor kid was in the middle of the seat and looked green with his lunch in his lap. “Hang on, Buddy, try not to move, we’re almost there.” My words sounded shallow even to myself, but there was little I could do.

We opened the windows and hung out of them the rest of the way. Poor Buddy closed his eyes and sat still, holding his lunch in his lap. I felt sorry for his brother and sister in the back seat with him.

At the dentist office (just 3 minutes late) my husband took some of the kids in to get them started while I took buddy to clean him up. Then I had to find him something else to wear.

I headed to the Nifty Thrifty looking for baby wipes and some clothes, but I didn’t do well. Can you believe a thrift store that had no boys pants? Not even a pair of sweat pants?! I ended buying bathroom wipes and a t-shirt. Oh well, it’s a start.

We got the poor guy out of his yucky clothes, and cleaned him up. We put his soiled pants and t-shirt in the Nifty Thrifty bag and tied them shut. I was so tempted to drop them in the garbage, but I knew they were his most favorite camoflauge  pants…so I didn’t, just hoping that maybe Daddy will rinse them out.

Then I headed to the 17th Street Bargain Store, praying for some pants. Bingo- a pair of wind pants that will work. I realized that I’m out of cash, so I counted out quarters to pay for them and ran to the van with my bounty. We got him clothed and headed back to the dentist.

Buddy said, “Thanks Mom, I feel better now.”

“You’re welcome sweetie.” I responded thinking to myself, “I’m glad somebody does!”