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On a recent rainy Saturday morning, my husband wanted to hit a giant yard sale. It was over an hours drive away, but he swore it would be worth it.

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It was large, I’ll give him that. Located at a fairgrounds, the sellers were set up outside as well as in.

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Here’s the husband searching for treasure.

He didn’t find any… because the percentage of tables that were selling actual yard sale items instead of arts and crafts was probably 20%. This pleased me to no end because if there’s one thing we don’t need any more of, it’s useless junk treasure.

After a fruitless search outside, he headed in. And that’s where my eyes started rolling the fun began.

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The circled item on the table? A roll of Barack Obama toilet paper the seller pointed out… making the mistake of thinking my older, white haired, Marine Corps hatted, veteran husband was MAGA. This happens a lot, and my husband never wastes time correcting the mistake.

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I’m afraid this Rush Limbaugh shirt wearing fellow got an earful. And an eyeful of backed up facts from the husband’s phone. Nothing my guy likes more a political debate.

Thankfully it didn’t get heated.

And ironically…

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He bought something there. A vintage wooden F.H. Roberts – Apollo chocolate crate from Boston.

Proving even ideological differences can’t stop commerce.

Done at the fairgrounds, we headed home in the pouring rain. Not that it stopped my husband from stopping at other yard sales.

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Sigh.

On the drive home…

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A driftwood lobster claw and another business that ignores adverbs.

After arriving home, I checked WordPress and found they’re scraping the bottom of the barrel for atta boys.

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It’s not like I did that on purpose.

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