I was close to the sleeping in finish line, when I heard a light tapping on my bedroom door. I thought it was soft enough that I could ignore it, but the tapping continued. I thought I heard a whiny "Maaaaaawma" but I wasn't sure.

Finally I gave in.

"Open the door. What do you want?" I whispered, as Izzy was still snoozing, nestled up next to me. If I could get this issue resolved quickly and quietly, I could have maybe 10-20 more minutes of sleep. In Mommy World, that's a lot.

So Orian throws the door open, barges in, and loudly proclaims, "IT'S GARAGE SALE DAAAAAAAY!!!!"

OMG. You didn't not just wake me up to tell me it's garage sale day (which it's NOT, btw).

"Shhhhhhhh...your sister is sleeping..." "But I want to go to the..." "Ok, ok, just wait downstairs quietly." "OOOOKKKKAAAAAYYYY!!!!!!"

Damnit. He woke the baby up.

Fortunately, there is something about the window blinds that Isabella finds fascinating, so I was able to lay in relative silence and rest while she cooed and stared at the window. Finally she got wiggly and it was time to go downstairs.

I didn't have any clean t-shirts upstairs (sad, I know), but I did snap the flaps on my nursing bra back up as a courtesy to males in the house. Izzy and I went downstairs and found both boys crouched on the couch, the curtains pulled and their little eyes glued to a gap they'd created in the window blinds.

Who were they spying on?

Aaaaaahhhh. Right. Garage sale. I looked out the window, and sure enough, there was a little garage sale going on across the street.. Normally I don't go garage sale-ing since I don't keep a lot of cash, and it's rather difficult to do by myself with three kids, but it was right across the street and the boys had recently been gifted some allowance money.

I changed the baby and put her in her "Milk Addict" onesie. I remembered to slide on some BabyLegs. A must now that she is CRAWLING! (This is a new development and a bit of a secret since Adrian doesn't know yet)

I found a tank top in the laundry room and got my glasses out of the bathroom. I looked like a troll doll, but c'mon, I was just going across the street. I noticed that my tank top was a maternity tank top. Oh well. If anyone noticed, it wasn't likely that they'd say anything.

The garage sale was rather small. They had 4-5 boys items in size 8. This is a good size for Orian, but he doesn't need new clothes. He just needs the clothes he owns to be washed. (Speaking of which, once at the garage sale, I discovered that he was *covered* in chocolate, from the top of his Star Wars t-shirt to the bottom of his grey GAP hand-me-down shorts which totally didn't match his bright blue t-shirt). There appeared to be some women's clothes.

In size FIVE. LMFAO.

Patriotic knick-knacks, some sort of beat up vacuum cleaner, a small white canopy for a little girl's bed. So many things I didn't want. They also had a Fisher Price infant-to-toddler rocker and a Leap Frog activity center for older babies. Our spoiled little girl already has both items (one was a hand-me-down from a different neighbor, though).

Xavier zeroed in on a Lego Knights figure and a bag of random toys for 50 cents. Orian's interest was piqued by a large, brightly colored children's keyboard for $3 (we were assured it worked). And I got some huge hideous white sunglasses for 50 cents. Hey, they were 50 cents.

Walking back to the house with our treasures, a couple who had been garage sale-ing right along with us were parked in front of my fire hydrant. This typically pissed me off, but I didn't notice it at the time, so I didn't say anything. The husband kept turning the key and getting only a 'click' in response.

I asked if they needed a boost, and they looked at me like I was an alien. I explained what I meant. Maybe "boost" is a Texas term. They were grateful, so I got the kids set up in the house, and put Izzy in her Jumperoo, then headed back outside.<\BR>
Everything went well. I repositioned the SUV and got out my jumper cables. The husband hooked everything up, and I got in my vehicle and started it up. It worked perfectly, and his truck was running nice and smooth.

He got out and began removing the cables from his truck. He and his wife were very happy (and embarrassed that this had happened). Then I did something very, very stupid.

I turned off my ignition.

I don't know why I felt compelled to do that. I have minimal experience with jumper cables. The guy started removing them while my vehicle was still running, so I guess I though my vehicle should be turned off for his safety. Only I was wrong.

The cables were connected to my vehicle and his hands. When I turned the key huge sparks flew from the cables and the man jumped and yelped. I was alarmed, but after his initial shocked (haha, sorry) reaction, he acted as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. The couple thanked me profusely, the man helped me get my cables back in their bag, he shut my hood, and they were on their way.

I felt so bad, and the whole time I kept thinking, "Can this guy sue me for trying to kill him?"

I reparked my SUV and went back inside to find my boys struggling to make the plastic piano work and my baby getting very close to her Jumperoo threshold.

When new batteries didn't help, I had Orian return his piano for a refund. He returned triumphant, proclaiming that now he had MORE money. No, sweetie. You have the same amount you had before you bought the broken keyboard. I have also been asked if we can have our garage sale today 207 times since I woke up.

*sigh*