Misadventure at the Flea Market

Roaming through the flea market is always interesting. Sometimes you discover treasures that you would never stumble upon anywhere else and other times you find a big, fat nothing.

I have a thing for incense, candles and other smelly goods, so I always make sure to stock up while I am there.

This past weekend, my boyfriend and I took his 9 year old son and 7 year old daughter with us to on our trip to Pecan Park Flea Market.

One of the tobacco shops has a wall lining the outside with over 100 types of incense. At ten for a dollar, I give everyone in the family two bags and tell them to fill them with their favorite scents. We spend at least 30 minutes perusing and testing the varieties. The kids are having fun smelling all of the smells and practicing sounding out labels like Lavender, Honeydew, Frankincense, or Night-time Jasmine Garden.

“Try that one.”

“Yeah!”

“Definitely not this. Shoo-wee…

“I like the Raspberry one! Here! Try!”

We are all buzzing back and forth filling our bags with little, smelly wooden sticks when a tiny voice fills the air, “This one is weird…Ms. Amber, smell the p-p-pu-pussy”

 

I almost died.

“Ahhh.. a cat scented one!?”

 

💘xoxo

– Am

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Amber💘

Being born and raised in the south should have made me more inbred and less tolerant, but something went wrong in the grand scheme of these damned rebels. I am; brutally honest, a bad driver with a record to prove it, a connoisseur of stand-up comedy, the oldest child, a lover of improv and comedy, an aware procrastinator, semi-sweet, the result of my mother losing her virginity, easily excitable, a lover of music, a pretty good liar, late to any event no matter what, myself without apology.

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