sharon writes baby clothes at the yard sales

“Joan is too tired to write a column. So just at Billy Keane in Family Circus draws occasionally for his father, Bil Keane; Sharon, Joan’s daughter is writing this week so Joan can rest.)
“I have something to tell you, Mom” my oldest brother said, “but first you have to promise not to buy anything.” I can just the imagine the smile on his face. Bewildered, Mom promised.
“We are expecting! But the doctor said don’t buy anything, a lot of things can happen,” he finished in a rush.
“Sorry, it’s too late. Last weekend at a garage sale, I bought a really nice crib for only $15.”
“You women and your vibes,” he sighed with a laugh.
Later, mom casually told me about the exciting news as if she was talking about an everyday thing. Yes, I know I have four nieces by my half-brother, but it was exciting to hear that my brother that I grew up with (imagine!) was having a baby!
The next Saturday Mom woke me up at 7 a.m. “You want to go to some garage sales?” I rolled over and managed to moan, “I guess.” Minutes later, I was behind the wheel, driving to rummage sales.
It was sprinkling, but the first home owners sat diligently in their carport, determined to get rid of junk and make a little money.
Mom walked straight to the table set up with baby clothes. She picked up tiny pairs of socks, onsies and pastel sleepers. As soon as she had conquered that table, she set out for a rack in the corner.
“Wouldn’t this look adorable on your half-brother’s daughter?”
“Yeah, I guess,” I still wasn’t fully awake nor was I really sure how big my half-niece was. Mom carried the outfit as she searched aimlessly among the rest of the clothes.
As the morning went on, I saw a pattern developing: All those garage sales had baby things. Mom was in search of infantile goods.
Days later, I went into my room expecting to watch a video with my mother. Instead I entered an infant clothing store. Sprawled across my floor were tiny shirts, socks, shoes and sleepers.
My mom smiled as she held up a light turquoise sleeper. “Isn’t this one pretty? And it only cost me 10 cents!” She had a miserly look as she gloated over her garage sale treasures. “And I figure I spent less than four dollars on all of this!”
“Neat,” I yawned, my finger on the remote control start button.
That afternoon I had to climb up in the attic to retrieve a suitcase for a trip I was taking the next week. The entrance to the crawl space over the garage was partially blocked with an infant swing and baby seat cover. The suitcases were wedged beneath a big plastic walk car for tykes.
I was amazed. She had gotten all t his in just three weeks! Mom say she bought it all for her sons, but I think she’s just using the babies as an excuse to buy cute little baby clothes.
You know, I’ll bet I know why she’s too tired to write a column: She spent the weekend in New Orleans going to garage sales, looking for more baby clothes with my brother’s wife, Alexis.

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