Treasure and It's Final Resting Place

Here are some more of the priceless treasures we uncovered as we sifted thru la casa de DK and LK:

Yes, unfortunately I regularly donned this ski hat on the slopes in the 90s (does that make it excusable? at least understandable...right?).  Mom is wearing Mark's hat though he would switch between this stegosaurus style and an extremely long stocking cap with a fuzzy ball on the end of it - think "A Christmas Story".

  It's like only wearing a cowboy hat when you're not in Texas because the only time you can get away with it is when you're around total strangers three states away. Needless to say, frigid temperatures melt away my vanity pretty quickly! 

My dad was having a hard time parting with these jackets he and my mom bought in New Zealand circa 1978. Ultimately we were not convinced to help keep these in the family much to DK's chagrin.

Our treasure's final resting place (at least at my parent's house): the driveway!

I think I've mentioned before that I extremely dislike garage sales.  I feel so taken advantage of watching people rifle through my stuff only to offer a quarter for it.  Though somethings are probably worth less.  

Observe Exhibit A:

This little number, jumper if you will, was one of my competitive cheerleading squad's mandatory practice uniforms. 

You know you've gone low when you find yourself defending this outfit in your head because two ladies just paused when they came across it and then proceed to speak Spanish fast enough to rival that old Micromachine commerical spokesman.  A vague image of Elaine in a nail salon comes to mind, and I immediately send Taylor telepathic messages to stop studying and get over here quickly, so he can fill me in on their ridicule.  

It really wasn't that bad on...

I think I inherited my love for garage sales from my dad.