Over the weekend the hubby and I decided to clean out the garage. Our new home doesn't have a basement and so we no longer have a storage room. Where has all of our "storage" stuff (AKA junk) been stashed? Well, in the garage of course! We have a three car garage that we can barely squeeze one car in to. So, we felt the need to declutter.
Declutter we did! We made piles of stuff to take to D.I. (a thrift store). Piles of stuff for the garbage. Piles of stuff to store. Well, you get the idea. We were on a roll. The back of my Honda Pilot was FILLED to the BRIM with our items for donations. Ahhhhhhh. Such a nice feeling. We get rid of stuff and others can benefit from it as well.
Yesterday morning I drove my Pilot over to the local D.I. and they cleared out my boxes of stuff. Smiling contently, I was on my way home feeling footloose and clutter free!
Today I took my son to lunch. The place we decided to eat at was right across the street from D.I. I decided to pop on in and see what treasures I could find. I have been on the look out for a short square coffee table that I can use to make into an ottoman for my family room. I figured since we were right there, I may as well just pop on in and see if one had been donated. Nope. No such luck today.
On our way out, all of a sudden my son (who is 10) was grasping my side and quietly sobbing into my shirt. I was trying to figure out what on earth just happened. I tried to ask him what was wrong. Did he get hurt? What was the deal? Then out of the corner of my eye, I saw it. What? Well, sitting on the shelf of the store was his wooden toolbox. Yep. The very one that was in my stuff that I donated yesterday.
The whole time I was thinking, "Who in their right mind goes into the thrift store and PAYS to buy something back that they just donated the day before?". Me. I do.
At least my son is happy.
