After spending every waking minute for the past two and a half days reading about the Cold War and having made it no further than what happened in 1950 at the 38th parallel, I decided to treat myself to a little retail therapy. Having recently received a windfall of graduation money, I decided to go looking for a couple of new nightstands and a piece of art to hang over the bed. This, I figured, was the best thing to do with the money because between you and me, it looks like we picked pieces of dilapidated furniture from dumpsters and tossed them into the bedroom to try to pass them off as our own minimalist, chic style of decorating.
If you’ve never really been to an antique store in Oxford (I can only speak for these antique stores because they’re really the only ones I’ve ever been in), you’ll know that there is a ton of garbage in these places that isn’t half as decent as the “chic” furniture we have now, but they put an expensive price tag on it because it’s “old”. The other thing about the antique stores in Oxford is that the things they carry are not all antiques. In every single store there are booths rented by local artisans looking to sell their contemporary wares at what is, in my opinion, not worth the price on the tag. Don’t get me wrong, that piece of tin that someone painted off-white was pretty bad ass, but for $49 it can sit there until it rusts. I could do the same thing with supplies from Home Depot for less than $20. (Hmm, a business idea in the making?)
At any rate, I couldn’t find anything I was even remotely interested in–minus that piece of tin and a $300 painting of the Oxford Square–but David was really interested in finding a cool, old toy that none of his other friends would have. While looking, we saw a really cool Lightning McQueen bedside lamp, a train, and a few other things that interested him, but what FINALLY caught his attention was a bucket. A very large bucket. A TWO GALLON bucket. And this bucket was FILLED with old Happy Meal toys. I was not enthusiastic about bringing home a gigantic bucket of toys since there isn’t room in our house for the toys he has now, but it was only $5 so I gave in, paid the man behind the counter, and made my kid’s day.
On the way home, David opened the bucket, and like a kid on Christmas morning, began to hoot and holler about every single thing he saw. After a few minutes of “Mommy, look! It’s Alvin!” and “Mommy! A race car!” he says to me, “Mommy, what’s THIS?” He handed me the toy and I almost wrecked the van admiring this thing. There in my hand was evidence that I, too, was once a carefree child. The object in question was a tiny car with a white haired man sticking his head out the window. But it wasn’t just any car, or any man. It was the Delorean driven by Doc from Back to the Future. And for one fleeting moment, I was so glad I bought my sweet angel baby that gigantic bucket of crap.