I wasn't at the first auction, but my husband and I drove up to look at everything, at which time I found these two items among all the other stuff:
|My 10-speed bicycle and my baby crib. To add insult to|
injury, my mom thought it was my BROTHER'S bicycle.
He also reminded me that it was his crib FIRST.
Yes, my parents put them in the auction. When I let out a howl, they told me I was welcome to take them home with me and store them there, so I shut my pie hole.
I found an awesome table that would be for sale. My dad said he would try to get it for me and asked me what it was worth to me.
"A ten-speed bike and a baby crib," I answered.
The second day of the auction was this past Saturday. My husband, daughter and I drove up for it. Even though there was less stuff than at the previous sale, there was still a LOT of inventory
|A chair made from horns. I kid you not.|
|Prince Albert in a can....|
|Beethoven. The one thing my mom wanted.|
|Found my old boyfriend, Shaun Cassidy.|
|Yes, it's a ping pong paddle. Yes, it's Richard Nixon.|
|Classic nativity: Joseph, Mary, Baby Jesus, and the|
Four Victorian Carolers
|Either Old Order Mennonite or Amish. Not sure|
as both live in the area.
|A white guy dressed like a black rapper.|
|Well, it ain't New York City 'round here.|
There was a funky chair that I really wanted. It was old and hand made and oddly shaped and upholstered in hideous harvest gold velvet. My husband hated it, but I loved it, and my mom said she would get it for me. I was a little worried about how much it would go for, because you never know at an auction if someone else might have fallen in love with something you want until it's time to bid on it. Lucky for me (and my mom), there was only one other bidder, who dropped out quickly, and we got the chair for $7.50 (which my husband says was overpriced).
I was carrying my chair to the back of the store building to lock it in a back room when a woman called out as I walked by, "That's a cute chair!"
I stopped and said, "Isn't it? I love it!"
Then she sucker punched me.
"Did you buy it for your grandkids to sit on?"
Grandkids? GRANDKIDS?! DO I LOOK OLD ENOUGH FOR FREAKIN' GRANDKIDS?! (Never mind that IN THEORY I am old enough, but I'M NOT OLD ENOUGH FOR GRANDKIDS.)
I stomped off with my chair. Grandkids! Old witch.
At the end of the auction, we all had a few treasures. My dad, for instance, bought an electric typewriter, but no one can figure out why.
My mom got her Beethoven bust:
My mom, daughter, and I got some fun costume jewelry.
And I got the little table I liked and my awesome chair.
And at the end of the day, everyone went home with their new things. The end.