Not Quite This Dirty
Indianola had its town garage sale day yesterday, and Margie and I headed on over to see if by remote chance somebody was selling an old garden tiller. The farm(stead)is finally to the point that Margie wants to expand her garden space, and neither of us is very interested in hand tilling.
First off, I have to say that I prefer a garage sale to an auction. I just don't seem to have the patience to wait at an auction to bid on something that I may get outbid for anyway. It's a Catch22 that you might get a really great deal at an auction, or not get anything at all to me.
The garage sales in Indianola are pretty much like garage sales everywhere. A lot of stuff is available of all kinds, and though I didn't find a garden tiller, I did get a battery charger and a book, and Margie got a divided crystal dish and a few other items. I think we spent a total of $15.
Everything was going along just great until we stumbled upon our farming neighbor and her daughter doin' the same thing as us. It's always fun to me to run into people you know in a different town, and yesterday was no exception as we got to make some humorous comments about how anybody could get in, and how we had to go to a distant town to see the neighbors...
Anyway, the neighbor was interested in buying a wading pool for grand-kids and asked if we would mind taking the pool home for them as they didn't have space for it in their vehicle. "No Problem!" was my response, and I commenced to put the pool in the back of the pickup.
Things were going just great when neighbors grand daughter says "your truck is dirty, you should wash it once in a while". Shame on me! I know my truck is dirty, and REALLY needed a bath, but for that little girl to tell me? Ouch.
So after delivering said wading pool, I decided that a little girl was not going to shame me again about my dirty truck so a bath was in order. First the wash, then the wax. I wouldn't have waxed it, but the crud from the winter roads seems to build up like molasses and had to come off too.
During my waxing effort, Margie walks into the garage and says "it's amazing that a 4 year old can make you wax the truck, and I can't get you to finish the bathroom". My indignant response...
"She's 5, not 4"
So the truck is clean and shiny, a 5 year old won't be able to tell me my truck is dirty for a day or two at least, and Margie still wonders what it will take to get me fired up to finish the bathroom project.
Happy Mothers Day Moms!