Can I tell you? I am still in the nightmare of packing and sorting. Thank you to all who have offered to help (we will be taking you up on it!) but some things I and only I can do, and that includes sorting and deciding what to keep. After yesterday, however, I did decide to make my life a teensy bit easier by eliminating one category of box — that of “things to sell.”
I spent at least a week painstakingly going through clothing, which I put into “keep, give away, sell” boxes and yesterday, between wanting to sit on my couch and feeling poor, I packed up all of our items to sell. We’ve been pouring money into fixing things up (on top of paying both a mortgage and rent) and I was so broke I couldn’t make a credit card payment. On top of that, we watched The Pursuit of Happyness Wednesday night and I was forever visualizing having to sleep on the bathroom floor of the public library on paper towels with my children if we didn’t get some cash coming in. So, feeling thrifty, I took some things around to sell. This is what mommies who only work part-time do, right? They are thrifty. They find cute little things to sell and keep the household afloat.
I went to Buffalo Kids first, which is a local used-clothing chain, and brought my small box of baby clothes in. “Is this all you have?” the lady asked, rather ominously. “Yes,” I replied. She sorted through the clothes (and an occasional adult clothing item) in about 30 seconds, put them all back, and told me, “I’m sorry, we can’t use any of these things.” “Oh,” I said. “Well, what sort of things are you looking for?” “Light, cotton, cute items,” she said. I held up a beautiful light, cotton pink dress that Maya had grown out of. “Like this?” I said. She sighed, as if she was so tired of dealing with these people, these people who wanted to sell her their used crap and said, “There’s a stain on it. In fact, all these things are stained.” “Stained?” I reply. She points to a miniscule purple dot hiding amongst the flower pattern. “Stained,” she says. “Mothers don’t buy stained clothes, particularly baby clothes.” Oh, okay, I think, trying to keep a straight face. I am remembering all the stained things I have bought from the Salvation Army and taken home to “save.” I am remembering picking stained clothing out of the trash bin in college and using my roommate’s fabulous stain remover on it (I still have a cashmere sweater from this era). But, saying nothing, I nod and pick up the box with one hand and Maya in the other and take my stained, dirty, white-trash self out to my stained, dirty white-trash Ford that is missing one hubcap. The woman does not so much as offer to hold the door as I balance my infant and box of stained, rejected clothing that, a few weeks earlier, I had been proudly dressing my daughter in (while saying of course, “That there dress done looks real good, honey, dontcha think?). I gritted my teeth and determined I would never shop there again (while grasping my bag containing an adorable summer outfit for Maya and a Ralph Lauren baby swimsuit. Stain-free, of course). The nerve. I had even taken out the things that had been explosively pooped on or had mysterious brown stains on it. I only had fancy stains on the clothes in this box, like applesauce and prune babyfood. In my world, that’s hardly a stain — that’s character. But Buffalo Kids, apparently, is not into “character.”
So, I went to the next store — Bookmans — also a local chain that sells used books. I again carry Maya in one arm and a large box of books precariously in the other. It takes 15 minutes for them to go through my box of books, from which they select four books. “You can take $17 credit for books, $10 credit for CDs or tapes, or $4 cash,” they declare. Since the last thing I want is to bring more books into my house, I take the cash.
I go to the next place, Twice as Nice, another local used clothing store, and again I balance baby and boxes and again I wait 15 minutes while they go through things. They are nicer here, and they do take some clothes, offering me $2.50 in cash or $5 in trade. I take the trade this time and use it to pay for 2 shirts that actually fit me.
Now I still have 2 full boxes of “stuff” to get rid of, so I get it to the car (the lady behind the counter actually helped me carry the boxes and opened the doors for me) and so I go look for a drop-off. After driving around for about 20 minutes in 90 degree heat, I can’t find where to drop the boxes off for the thrift stores closest to my house. I go home, drop the boxes by the curb, and look for a pen to write “free” on the side. I can’t find a pen. Finally I take off to pick up Ben from preschool.
By this time I am angry and frustrated, so instead of spending the afternoon packing, I go to a coffee shop and spend $9.
My totals for my trouble?
$4 cash plus $5 trade = $9, minus $3 in gas, $8.52 in shirts, $9 in comfort food, and $8.99 for two completely unstained baby outfits.
Total: -$20.51, not counting an entire wasted day.
I’ve decided that the Salvation Army? It is a deal. Giving them my crap not only eliminates other people going through my things in front of me, it saves me $10 a box.
Giving to charity never felt better.
