Why? Why go through the torture? I was up at 6 a.m. posting signs around the neighborhood. At about 6:30 when I was on my next-to-last sign, a deer, who was out for her morning decorative plant binge, trotted over and stopped a few feet away from me. She cocked her head to one side, as if to say, "What are you doing, you crazy human?" Ugh. Time for coffee.
Drove to the grocery store and bought powdered lemonade crap so the kids could have a lemonade stand. Hauled everything out onto the driveway by 7:30. Sat outside for 5 hours. Told Dominic to "Back away from the box of hot wheels, you know, the ones you told me I could SELL? Back away from the stuffed animals. Yes you can pay your sister for a lemonade. No, you can't have three of them. Go get water. Stop bothering the customers. No hard selling." Repeated those sentences, not in the same order, about 50 or 60 times.
I made 50 bucks, or, as my husband said, about a gas tank full. Hauled the unsold stuff back to the shed. Will call Value Village to pick up the rest.
Do you do yard sales? Are you shattered afterwards? It doesn't help that the air above my driveway boils with the heat shimmering off the blacktop.
One good thing, however. All the Barney videos are now out of my house. No more purple dinosaur!