Dirt Cheap


Yesterday, I came home to a lizard trapped purposely in one of my Rubbermaid containers (Yep. That one's a gonner.), and I took a shower and changed the sheets on our bed all before Parker woke from his afternoon nap (Guess all the lizard catching did him in.).

Random...Yes. But true.

So my dad likes to tease me about the fact that Jim and I love to shop at a store here in town called Dirt Cheap (They've recently changed their name from Treasure Hunt. I only assume this came from the saying, "One man's junk..." You know the one.). He doesn't get all excited about the deals I tell him we got. Instead he says things like, "If ya'll ever quit going there, they might actually go out of business." 

And I have to laugh.  I really do.  But when I quit laughing, I tell him, "Hey!  Don't be knocking my store now!" 

Because really.  Where else can you find a brand new chicco stroller that's missing the canopy and you have to call their customer service department to get a replacement that costs the same amount of money that you paid for the stroller to start with? 

And where else can you buy a Leapster 2 that was obviously used as a display, doesn't work, and sits in the cabinet above your refrigerator (BTW, we went back and bought another one which means half off wasn't really half off, but now...NOW...Jake is scoring big time on his Toy Story 3 game.)? 

And where else can you buy four boxes of Q-tips that have green Salvage stickers in bold black text stuck to them and look like the were played racquetball with? 

These are GOOD deals, Dad, I tell him.

He doesn't buy it. 

He just laughs and says, "Oh really?"

Okay, so those weren't my best purchases from there, I'll admit.  I'll also admit a huge majority of what's in this store is probably...okay okay...it's junk.  Jake admits it too...right when we walk in the store.  "Look at all this junk!" he shouts.  Awesome Jake.  I sincerely hope every single person in here heard you, Buddy.  Actually I really don't.  Nor did I say that to him when we went there to shop last Friday night.  I actually slapped my hand over his mouth and whipped my head around to see if anyone could have possibly heard what he said. 

I'm able to sleep at night telling myself they didn't.      

But what I can say, ya'll?  Buying things like two boxes of diapers for the price of one, enough Q-tips to clean all eight of our ears for the rest of our lives, brand new sippy cups that take half a bottle of WD-40 to get the tape residue off of them, and a toddler swimming pool in the shape of a crab that no one wanted in its original retail location just thrills me. 

So I'll keep going. 

I'll keep getting burned every now and again on electronics that don't work. 

I'll keep laughing with my dad when he cracks his not-so-funny jokes just to make him feel good. 

And I'll snap a picture of Jake in his Ct0.6 tangerine, chicco stroller that I still got for twenty bucks less...even if I did have to order a replacement canopy.  Bam!

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