Adventures in antiquing with a thrifty wife

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Southern Voices, Southern Stories

Some call it “thrifting.” Others refer to it as “yard-saling.” When it involves my spouse, I call it torture.

Michael DeWitt, Jr.

My bride of 18 years enjoys Saturday mornings spent hopping from thrift store to yard sale to bargain bin – with just a little antiquing thrown in for extra misery.

The problem? My wife is a browser who doesn’t like to spend money. I am a hopeless consumer with no self-control. I collect cookbooks and old bottles and outdoor magazines and anything rusty—let’s just say that the antique store is not a safe place for me to be unsupervised.

“I’ve got to have that!” I exclaim, at every thrift store or bargain bin we visit.

“You don’t even know what it is!” the spouse argues.

“I don’t care, I still need it!”

“You don’t need that,” the wife tells me, and she will repeat that phrase often throughout the day.

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