February 23, 2009
Most people have to go to a STORE to buy furniture. This weekend, the lucky residents of my neighborhood only had to saunter to the ends of their driveways to purchase the love seat/sectional/bunk bed of their dreams.
Yesterday, a semi truck parked in the middle of our cul-de-sac for 20 minutes. The driver--a bearded man with no teeth--sold overstock furniture to passersby, ice cream truck style.
My husband told me that if I went outside to talk to the man, I might not be let back in.
Empty threats aren't what stopped me. Remembering that it was Sunday did.
Dang 4th commandment.