The volunteers at the Third Street Alliance in Easton, PA, probably think I’m the world’s worst momma. That’s better than the alternative, though. If they knew that both of my kids have four legs and fur they’d think me just plain crazy. There are days when The Boy would agree.

I recently staggered into the house totally disheveled and covered in sweat, dragging an overstuffed yard-size garbage bag. On the stoop was another near-splitting garbage bag, plus a pair of smaller ones. My load was so big and heavy I’d barely made it across the street and through a parking lot to the house.

It was the semi-annual Bag Day at the Third Street Alliance rummage sale. You can practically hear the crickets chirping in the gym throughout the event—until the final day. Then all hell breaks loose.

Five bucks pays for whatever you can jam into a yard-size garbage bag and drag out of the building. A smaller bag is just a dollar.
I was part of the waiting crowd, ready to stake my claim at one of the long tables piled high with clothes when the doors opened. Pickin’s were good. (Right now I’m wearing a T-shirt and a cardigan I picked up there.)

The crowd thinned after the first two hours. By then I had already claimed all the clothes I wanted to wear or upcycle into useful and fun crafts. Yet I hung around because I wanted to grab all of the remaining VHS tapes. I can jam 23 kid-themed VHS tapes into a smaller bag; I filled two this time.

Did I mention that The Boy and I don’t have any people-children?
The Third Street Alliance cares for at-risk women and children, so I wouldn’t be surprised if the rummage sale volunteers were wondering if I was one of those Bad Mommas who parks her kids in front of the TV all day. Little do they know that those tapes are destined for a big crochet project. Me, crazy?

My neighbor said I was. Until I pulled out a never-worn, never-washed, tags-still-on pair of white jeans in her size.