the eugene bean

Ty: Why do you think mom made you such good cornbread?
E: Because she doesn’t hate me.

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My neighbors (4 of them) had a group garage sale yesterday. It was a lovely day, sunny and bright and just plain l-o-v-e-l-y. I got home from work at the scrapbook store at about 3:30 and the sale was in full swing.

I hightailed it to my apartment as fast as I possibly could, narrowly avoiding eye contact and any chance that I’d be guilted into buying someone else’s crap. I actually hid on the back porch, hid!

I hate garage sales. Hate Them With a Passion. They fill with me pity, in a “You are so broke you are selling your used possessions to make a little cash” kind of way. And with regard to their fabulous assets to the community I must say that despite my most valiant attempts, garage sales have never really worked for me. Some people swear by them and have them on a bi-annual basis, but me? They give me the creeps.

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I am suffering from an overwhelming sense of guilt. It’s heavily weighing on my spirit and I have to share it.
Here it is:
My children are so wonderful that my heart breaks for the family we miss in New Orleans. I am depriving them of these truly fantastic, funny, amusing, exciting little people.

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On the way to the grocery this morning the conversation went like this.

Me: Oh look! Amazon Pool is open; do you see the people in there?
E: That pool only opens in summer.
Me: Yup.
E: Then it must be summer.
Me: Yup.
E (after a moment of silence during which I could see his blood boiling and his pulse racing and the vein on the side of his neck beginning to bulge in pure fury):
Then why the hell am I not in the pool!
I could only smile and feel lucky that this wasn’t said in the checkout aisle.

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And Happy Father's Day! May your day be filled with things that make you happy!