Seconds

We were somehow coerced into a conversation about potty training by a perfect stranger, albeit a perfect stranger with a 22 month old, when Lionel said, "We just got a potty-trainer at..."

and then a huge silence ensued, as though he was trying to remember exactly where he got it.   "...at a flea market," he finished.

He was almost telling the truth; there had been a flea market that Saturday, but a bunch of the stuff hadn't sold.  I'd suspected as much, and made a point of going the next day to the Washington Mall, a.k.a. the "Swap Shop" a.k.a the "Transfer Station", also commonly referred to as "The Dump", which is where we actually got the item in question.

American's spend, on average, about 10 percent of their "disposable" income (income left after taxes) on food.   The rest, I gather, goes to mortgages (28%) and utility bills (26%), credit cards and other bills, and whatever's left over gets either saved or is invested in something the average American probably doesn't need, like a new pair of shoes, a cute outfit at Macy's, an xBox or a TV (unless those purchases went directly onto the magic credit card.)  The free market's very purpose is to sell us things we don't need, such as the "sandwich crust cutter" I saw next to the bread the other day.  This item is shaped exactly like a commercially available slice of bread, which is then pressed upon the piece of bread all in one easy motion, rather than the laborious and painfully slow knife method, or the even more torturous eat-the-crust method.  Though I didn't stop long enough to fully peruse its capabilities, I fully believe that somewhere on the package it tells you it is best with only a certain brand of bread.

We've stopped buying new clothes, preferring to take our chances at the Salvation Army when it becomes necessary to re-populate our drawers.  But even clothes we can retrieve for free at the Mall.  I recently snagged a pair of sandals, and an entire box full of clothes with the tags still on.  Some of them didn't fit, some of them I didn't like.  They went back to the dump.

We've also gotten: a high chair, a stroller, a bunch of books, cups, and most recently a Little Tikes slide, which retails, my friends, for $72.00 .

I've learned the art of patience, even waiting for half the summer for a child's bicycle seat to show up before breaking down and buying one.  Even then I could have been more patient; the very next day a perfectly good specimen appeared, dusty but serviceable.  All you have to do is wait, be on the look out, and also get there at the right time.

Sometimes the items in question are slightly worse for wear, requiring a strap here and there to be mended, the cover to be washed out, a wheel or two to be replaced, or the gears to a toy taken apart and put back together.  Depending on the severity of the malformation a few days may pass before we actually repair and put the item into circulation, or possibly decide that actually we don't need it and send it back.

It's not a mindset that came entirely easy to us.  We're not the fixer-upper types, much as we'd like to be, and a slightly worn piece of clothing is never as much fun to wear, at least at first, as something which is brand spanking new.  But we feel better about ourselves now that we've turned the corner, and we're saving money and energy and most importantly, we can spend more than ten percent of our income on that thing which actually keeps us alive and healthy.   Why else are we earning money?  

tags: totally random