This weekend started at 4 a.m. Saturday morning when hubby woke anticipating the 5 a.m. alarm. We drove in the dark to meet my brother and a ridiculous amount of stuff strapped down to a huge pick-up truck and flatbed trailer that we three had loaded the night before. We waited in a long line of cars, got ushered to our spots and then began to unload, praying that we would at least sell the larger or more unwieldy items so we wouldn't have to figure out how to get them back on the truck again.
Ah yes, friends. It's flea market time.
It's one more week 'til closing on my parents' house and my brother thought we'd try to lighten their (and our) load and get them a little more cash to use towards movers, storage, incidentals, etc. Brother and I were the main wheeler-dealers. Hubby, a few of my brother's friends and even mom and dad stopped in and played supporting roles. And as shocked as I am to admit it, as reluctant as I was to spend my weekend at this task, here is where I say,
We had a great time!
Hell, we even made some money.
My brother is a pro. A sight to behold. He can sell anybody anything. We were all awed watching him in action. Dad even remarked he was in the wrong business and should take up sales. Hubby had his weekend crossword and coffee so he was fine. Mom brought a little lawn chair and stuck it on the flatbed so she wouldn't be in the way. She struck a pose as some sort of redneck queen lording over her possessions. At least in my mind. Dad, it seems, LOVES flea markets. He said it at least five times. We calm him down when he starts talking about making it a regular thing because yeah, meeting crazy people is fun (I guess) but he's not the one doing the loading and unloading of all this gear. Let's not get carried away.
So a good time is had by all. We half the amount of stuff we started with and find a neighbor to hold the rest until brother and I can do this again (ONE more time and that's it. I swear), we come home sunburned as hell and start to count the money. Just as we are getting ready to leave my parents house my cell phone rings and I know who it is. The clinic. I casually saunter back to the bathroom to take the call privately. Remember, folks don't know boo about this. I try to be casual and friendly to the nurse but I am dying to know, did she say yes??
She said yes.
She said YES! Our fabulous donor is willing to give it another go. So, we wait out a cycle to clear both of our systems out and then start our regimens again in about a month. Hubby knew the good news as soon as I emerged from the bathroom. We said our goodbyes and quickly drove home to celebrate. We popped open a beer, made some burritos, stuck a movie in
And promptly fell asleep on the couch.
Sounds like a perfect day with dessert and a cherry on top. So happy to hear your news.
Yeah!!!! She said yes.
I know the feeling. I am so excited for you.
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