Value

We get kinda excited about a thrift store around here.  You know the kind I mean–the filled with junk/treasures and exuding that certain musty, a dead-cat-may-be-decomposing-in-a-suitcase-somewhere kind of smelling place.  Let me repeat, this thrift store is filled with junk/treasures, so just hold your nose and wash whatever you buy.

We get kinda excited about it because it contains aisles full of stuffed animals all for sale at prices that can be matched by a six-year-old and three-year-old’s expense accounts.  Their weekly salary has been known to stretch far enough to cover a new skateboard or a stuffed bunny the size of a living room chair.  Because, people, these are Treasures.  Treasures.

Someone has given away these Treasures (along with a decomposing cat in a suitcase) because they no longer hold value, sentimental or otherwise.  But the treasure hunt delight that occurs every week like clockwork on family payday says that all junk can be made new again.  It says we’re never too old, worn out, or stinky to be someone’s brand new, beloved serendipity.  Just slap a $3 price tag on us, put us at eye-level for a six-year-old, and maybe add some floppy ears or wheels.  Voila.

I may not agree about the value of a new skateboard or a bunny that requires a new addition built onto our house to accommodate its bulk, but hey, what do I know?  I do know that the Treasure Hunters’ serious faces and the Treasure Finders’ elated faces are works of art no one can afford to buy.  I simply hold my breath and take in the masterpieces as they do their thing.

Thrift is the new Value, don’t you know?

Day 22 of 31 days.  For the month of October, I’m joining in on 31 Days of 5 Minute Free Writes.  Following the rules to write an unedited response to a prompt in 5 minutes, I’m grateful for the challenge of Write 31 Days.