Garbage Picker

Our municipality is having a 'large item pick-up' this week, and in preparation every third house has placed piles of old appliances, furniture, etc., by their curb. I know that we live in an age of consumerism, that we're excited by the new and the shiny, but I am appalled to see what people are just throwing out. If I were having a baby, I could easily have outfitted myself with a stroller, high chair, crib, change table, bouncy seats and ride-on toys yesterday. All in good condition, and barely needing a wipe down. If I were furnishing a house I could have picked up antique wood dressers, sofas, chairs, tables....obviously some were things were junk, but a lot of it just needed a lick of paint or a steam-clean. I thought we were having a recession, people?

I drove past all of these things, and then I saw a flash of pink metal. A bike. The girlie needs a new bike. I stopped and got out. The bike was too small, but right beside it there was a wagon. We've almost completely abandoned the stroller, but we've thought that a wagon would be great on day trips to the zoo and such; I just haven't wanted to spend the money. The wagon was in great shape except for one broken wheel. But it was a Little Tikes, and their phone number was right there! Surely I could just order a new one. I stuffed the wagon in my trunk, and took off home, eager to consult the oracle Google.

Let's just say this. Little Tikes can bite me. I won't be purchasing any more of their products if I can help it. They do have a parts department, but it's a joke. They don't want you to fix their products...they want you to dump the massive plastic carcasses in a landfill and buy a new one. I was so disappointed, but Bad was convinced that even if Mommy had failed him, Daddy could fix it. Daddy can fix anything. I told Hubs all about my experiences with the Little Tikes website and "help" line over dinner. "There were a couple other wagons around with missing parts, but they weren't the same kind....I can't believe that you can't even order a wheel from these people!" I lamented.

"Go get the other wagons. The kids and I will meet you in the backyard."

So I went back out garbage picking and my resourceful husband built us a Frankenstein wagon with a Little Tikes body and Step 2 front wheels. I hosed it off and gave it a quick scrub and the kids hauled it to the front for a test drive. It works great, and as Hubs and I sat on the front steps watching our little ones running and laughing, giving each other rides up and down the street, I counted another one of my blessings. I have a talented husband who can fix anything, and he loves me for being a cheap-ass garbage picker. Does it get any better than that?