Warm Fuzzies

Sometimes you get just what you need where you least expect it.

The first couple of weeks of my 30s haven’t been the best. Okay. . They’ve really sucked. I have stress coming at me from all directions and – as I think I’ve successfully demonstrated in previous posts – I don’t handle that well.

Last week, I headed to the consignor early half-price sale at Rhea Lana’s. Rhea Lana’s is a pop-up children’s consignment event where you can sell your clothes and buy new ones. If you do it right, you walk away with a new wardrobe for your children and profits to cover what you spent. If you have never been, get thee to a Rhea Lana’s sale. If you don’t have one in your area, start one! They are truly awesome.

So, I went there to shop with all of the other mom’s searching for the end-of-sale cheap goods. I’m shopping near the front desk area and hear a woman ask if they have any crib mattresses. I make a mental note of this, as we were selling the little man’s crib mattress.

Now, the little man really never slept in his crib. It only took a couple of nights for us to realize that he did better in a bed. I wasn’t sure if the mattress would sell – I mean, buying used crib mattresses from strangers isn’t really commonplace – but decided to put it in anyway.

When the other shopper eventually made her way to the mattresses, I just happen to be standing nearby. Really, it was just a coincidence. I did stay in that area as she inspecting the mattress though, quietly stalking her while joking around with my husband on the phone. “Oh, she is looking at it. She is looking at the others too, but ours is best. She is on the phone talking with someone about the mattress. Oh, a sold sign is going on it. Score!”

Yes, creepy. I know.

After watching her buy the mattress, I decide I am going to go tell her that is it pretty much brand new except for the year it spent sitting in the crib. This is the south; we can do those types of things. So, I walk up and start with “Ma’am, I don’t want to be creepy, but. . . “and I explain all about the mattress.

Turns out she was buying it for a foster family who couldn’t be there to shop. The family had been taking in children and had even adopted a baby with medical needs. Their crib mattress was showing it wear, but she was – understandably – a little leery of buying one used. She was going to be happy to hear my additional information.

I felt pretty good walking away. Even if she told her all about the creepy lady who watched her shop, she would still be able to tell her about the mostly-new mattress and I could be thrilled that my stuff ended up with the right family. I had warm fuzzies all the way home.

[I don’t usually stalk other shoppers. I promise.]


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