Saturday morning I got up with the munchkin, made some coffee, cut up some strawberries and sat down to feed him some oatmeal and fruit. As I pulled the chair out from the table, I noticed that the back was loose; not falling out right now loose, just kind of loose. But it got me thinking.
We were given our table and chairs by a family from our church when they were moving to California. Jud and I were just dating and people were giving us furniture for our future. I suppose my parents knew this one was a keeper when we showed up at their house with furniture to store in their basement for some yet to be appointed time. It was great to not have to purchase a ton of stuff when we first tied the knot and most of what we received has held up remarkably well.
The table and chairs have taken some serious abuse. The family who gave them to us had a slew of kids, all really young and they were…um…busy. We trucked the six chairs and table down to Dallas and then back up north with only one soldier down. While in Dallas one of the chairs’ cross beams became so unsteady that we just put it out by the dumpster. A few days later it showed up at our neighbors permanent garage sale, with the cross beam sawed off. I’m not sure if anyone bought it, but I really hope no one sat on it. Danger.
So, I figured the next chair to go would leave us with four and then we’d be forced to either go buy some new chairs or to just replace the whole set. I was day dreaming about a new table and the lack of desire I have to spend money on one when Gideon toddled toward the front windows.
Across the street, the neighbors were having a garage sale and were selling a strikingly similar table and chair set. The only real difference is the shape of the seat and the table’s lack of butterfly leaf. Similar enough for me to use the chairs without anyone really noticing that they are not a match.
I waited for Jud to wander downstairs and told him about the sale. We decided on a dollar amount that we would be willing to surrender for some more chairs (and obviously the table that would come along with it) and headed across the street.
She wanted five dollars less than our cap. Sold! As Jud hauled the chairs and table across the street, I thought about how I would have never attempted to go garage sale-ing for additional chairs. I hate the process. I hate the driving. I hate the hunt. It’s the same reason why I never leave a second hand shop with anything other than the desire to take a shower. I’m just not patient or thorough enough to get to the pay off.
Thank goodness this garage sale came to me. It’s one less, or maybe two less, tables and chairs for the landfill.
