Monday, October 27, 2008

Redneck H(e)aven

In my early twenties, nothing got me more excited than to hear the phrase, "let's go to the flea market." My college roommate and I would hit every one we could find. We filled out every giveaway, watched every demonstration, and laughed at all of the quirky little things that we loved but couldn't afford.

The first time I went to the flea market with Justin, I was a little nervous. Would he be as much fun? Would he act as impatiently as he does when I am shopping for clothes. It was a big step. But, he passed with flying colors. We liked the same type of stuff, and shunned the junk. When he found baseball cards, I would sneak away and watch a mop demo. It was perfect.

We spent many weekends at the flea market when we first got married. We would find lots of stuff that we liked, but couldn't afford. We would gravitate towards the funny antiques that no one would really understand but us. And we liked it like that.

After Maddie came in the picture, we stopped going. I refused to push a stroller and run over every other shopper because I hate it when it happens to me. And now that she is old enough to walk around on her own, I'm afraid that she would get lost in the crowd and end up being sold in some secret area of the flea market that I don't know about.

But this was the weekend. Justin's mom agreed to watch Maddie for the weekend. We were already going to be in the area for a football game. We had plenty of time. I was almost giddy at the idea of all of the great deals we were going to find.

Two hours later and we had spent $3.75 on a package of veggie dip. And the only reason I bought that was because I felt bad for eating so many of their sample chips. There was no way I was buying the over priced food at the flea market.

I didn't need socks. I didn't feel comfortable buying over the counter medicine that expired two years ago. I didn't want a "Sham- Wow!" that was being sold at many antique booths. I didn't want a three dollar bra.

When did quirky become quappy? Or was it always?

The best thing that came out of our excursion to redneck h(e)aven was rediscovering how much fun can be had at a flea market.

Especially when you are with the right person.

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5 comments:

Rachel said...

Ha Ha HA.

It's amazing how the 'fun' things, look completely different now that we're *ahem* older.

I'm glad y'all had fun, especially for so cheap!

noble pig said...

So how was the dip? Have you mixed it up yet?

LemonySarah said...

Yeah, flea markets, thrift stores and yard sales were so much more fun in my 20's than they are now. Really, it's a good thing - our standards are higher now, which means that we've learned what real quality is. In things and people, too!

Megan said...

What? You didn't get the Sham-Wow?!

kimmie said...

The last time I was able to convince Mom to go with me to the flea market, both of my girls got Confederate Battle Flags i.e. "Rebel Flags" painted on their faces. Needless to say, "you might be a redneck..."

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