A Couple of Boxes of Stuff
As a child, I remember my Mom having garage sales on the occasion. I say my Mom, because she would be the one hosting it and generally, on those days, my Dad was nowhere to be found. Now, whether my Dad avoided them because garage sales are insanely boring (my opinion, not necessarily the rest of the world) or he could have very well been helping my granny and grandpa at the time, I honestly can't remember, but I would invariably be stuck at home during said garage sale and at some point or another, find myself rummaging through the toys that I either hadn't played with in a while or that my Mom deemed needed to be on the chopping (shopping?) block (see what I did there?). I would try to find excuses to keep them, excuses that rarely worked, and I would also try to smuggle whatever I had deemed a treasure back to my toybox in the family room of our house. There was one garage sale that I had been rummaging through, and another woman came rummaging as...
