Nikle for a Memmory

I had a yard sale and learned some facts about life.

The first and most important one is: I am not a yard sale person.

(All other life lessons earned at the sale hinge upon that principle)

I am a classically trained retail customer.
I hate bartering, asking for money, and confrontation.


I know it's unreasonable to horde stuff you don't want, especially when moving across the country.

I sold all the baby toys and clothing.
It felt like I was opting for sterilization.
It felt irrationally permanent.
It fueled my desire to hold on to the fragments of their infancy even tighter. 

I put price tags on sleepers they wore the 1st week of life, and toys they gnawed more than played with.

Once the bargain hunters arrived, I was informed that the going rate on a childhood memory was significantly lower than the 1 or two bucks I was asking.

People insisted on haggleing over a quarter or less so I turned over all purchases to Colin.

I don't like to barter especially when it's over my daughters first swimsuit, rattler, or dress.


It was strange to see people refuse to pay me for items in excellent condition,
 things they would normally pay 2x as much for at the DI or kid to kid.

I potted plants and thought about society and consumerism while my husband haggled and bartered the afternoon away. 

I was a real person, a member of their community, selling MY things and some how this made them worth less.   Supporting a large, often faceless corporation is more acceptable than paying pennies on the dollar at a yard sale.  It's not about the money that I found disturbing, it's how corporations and communities are at odds.