I love yardsales. I love bargains. I especially love yard sales where the sellers are so focused on getting rid of clutter that the price isn't an issue. "Yes. Please just take it. I want it gone." Love those.
Not so hip on the ones where everything is priced based on the intensity of their emotional attachment to it.
"Uh, no I cannot, in good conscience, pay you $30 for that broken-down scooter. I don't care if you call it an 'antique'...it really doesn't make it more valuable. It just means you wore it out when you were a child."
No biggie though. I've dealt with that before. I just smile, say thank-you, and move on.
But I have to say, I was not experienced in dealing with the thing that happened after we left the broken-down-scooter yardsale and drove to another one.
I'm innocently shopping for girls' clothes and am literally surrounded by women talking about a beauty pagent one of them had just put their little girl into. They gasped and gabbed over the ridiculous extent that some obsessive parents will go to in helping their daughter win. The fake hair...the excessive make up...blah blah blah.
They were talking so fast, my head was spinning as I tried to block them out.
THEN the ring leader mom goes onto say...all in the same breath that criticized those obsessive parents, "I spent over $800 on her dress." She pauses for effect. "And she still didn't win!"
I think I stopped breathing, as I waited half-expecting the other women to yell, "You did WHAT?"
But it never came. Instead, they all expressed their astonishment at her loss and offered their condolences.
"And the girl who did win wasn't even..." her voice lowers her voice. I'm pretty sure she mouths the next few words. Since I was literally a couple of inches from her mouth and didn't hear it. But I can tell by the tone of the "crowd" response that it wasn't complimentary.
"Well, where did you take her!?" a woman (who is the person giving the yardsale) asks in a lets-get-to-the-bottom-of-this-outrage type tone.
The irate woman names MY TOWN. Everyone responds with a collective gagging sound.
I try hard not to smile. And I'm so wishing I could walk away. But as luck would have it, I'm waiting to pay the woman. You know, the one who is apparently disgusted by my friendly little town and obviously dead-set on ignoring me to hear this juicy story.
So I wait. And the conversation continues.
The person to my direct right says, "Yeah. Probably some person from (*insert name of my town*) won."
"Uh-huh!"...another disgruntled shopper on my left speaks up ... "probably some *Smith!" (*not the real last name they used). They all agree, letting out angry huffs and continue talking over each other.
I am sooo tempted to say something. Not only am I FROM the offending town, I am related to the last name in question.
Now at this point, being that I'm an acquaintance of the woman giving the yardsale, I am SURE she's going to turn to me...since I'm just awkwardly standing there... and ask where I'm living these days. You know, since I haven't seen her for ...oh, 15 years.
I brace myself for it. My mind races trying to silently prepare what I'd say. and trying to guess the women's reactions upon the uncomfortable conversational revelation. heh heh
I am really trying not to laugh. Really, I am. but one itty bitty laugh escapes my lips. They look at me. I keep my head down, scrutinizing the McDonald's kidmeal toys for the 10th time.
I'm guessing they probably thought that I was as disgusted as they were. I mean, why wouldn't I be?! The nerve of those small-town hypothetical Smiths having a daughter win out over their daughter clothed in gold.
And all for the grand Miss Po-dunk Powder Princess title. Really, how could they.
But thankfully, no one asks me anything. I pay my money and leave, finally able to truly laugh over the irony of it all.
And though, quite frankly, I was glad that this woman who spent close to $1000 on a dress for an 8 year old to wear for 45 minutes didn't win...I did get a glimpse of reality when I looked up. into the eyes of the little girl. the one it was all supposedly about. Standing there. Forced to quietly listen to the entirety of the conversation.
Just like I had been.
She smiled at them from a few feet away. They casually discussed her beauty for a moment. And she was pretty. completely adorable. But I had to wonder how all this talk of comparison and judgement and haughtiness of who's better than whom had effected her.
Will she grow up thinking that she's only good enough is she beats out someone else in beauty? That in order to "win" she has to spend an outrageous amount of money on clothes?
Not that I'm ragging on beauty pagents. Because I'm not. Alright? I'm not particularly for them. But I'm not against them either.
But ANYWAY...at first, the whole thing struck me as funny. Because it was MY town and MY family's last name that they were verbally bashing. But then...looking up, seeing her, and trying to view it through her little girl eyes... the whole thing was just sad.
And then I had to wonder...as I walked to my car full of little girls waiting for me...how can I guard my heart to not put my little girls in a position where I am fulfilling my dreams of *whatever* through them?
I'm sure as a parent of older, active children, it's really an easy thing to do. I mean, I always wanted to do gymnastics. But I never did. And now, I'm beyond thrilled that my girls show potential in that area. *Uh, Warning Warning*
I want to make sure that my precious little girls will never feel like they have to perform "just so" in order to hear my praises. I want to guard my heart against trying to get a second chance at MY unmet childhood dreams through their childhood.
Just something that made me laugh...and then caused me to think.
