This morning I took the kids to some garage sales. Mitchell loves garage sales, and Rosie loves sleeping, so it worked out for all of us. We pulled up at one particular goldmine of a garage sale and the proprietors immediately grabbed Rosie to take her to the shaded patio. Mitchell then ran off to play with their son. I wandered there for a bit, grabbing adorable paraphernalia and an end table that I swear I’m going to get all crafty on, wondering whether I should be enjoying the childless state of shopping or if I should be worried about the fact that strangers were baby-talking my sleeping daughter, when I found my answer: Mitchell can’t be trusted. The little boy had taken Mitchell to his sandbox. They were happily pushing toy construction equipment around, chatting amicably, and it didn’t seem to bother the older boy a bit that Mitchell was not wearing pants or shoes, both of which were laying a few feet away. Why? When I asked, Mitchell pointed out that there was dirt on them. So, duh mom, they needed to be removed.
It did serve a purpose, though. I offered them half price on everything and they happily took it and even walked everything to my car for me. I’m pretty sure they wanted to be rid of the creepy pantsless toddler, but whatever. New haggling tactic!