When you participate in a once-a-year neighborhood garage sale in a neighborhood the size of a mid-sized American city you are likely to meet many interesting people.
And we did.
He was out for a stroll on the eve of the big sale. He walked down the slight incline of the driveway to see what treasures were to be found. There was an air of pride about him as though he was the bearer of some great accomplishment, like a Nobel prize or the like. He carried himself in a kingly fashion. If the king was recovering from recent knee surgery. Okay, so he hobbled down the hill. But he definitely had a story to tell.
You see, Mr. Hobbles won the Mr. Georgia pageant a few year back. Yes, it is true. At least as far as I have fact-checked. Which is not far as I do not actually know his name. But he bills himself as a former Mr. Georgia and that is quite enough for me.
He was hilarious!
He had a sense of humor for days!
He picked things up off our tables to ask what they were for.
He laughed easily and loudly at his own jokes.
When he saw the clothes rack though, he got truly excited. Next thing we knew, the Former Mr. Georgia was slipping into mom’s 1980’s Tibetan Lamb coat and accessorizing with dad’s custom-made leather fireman helmet. It was something to behold! Thankfully I am the daughter of a photographer. So there is proof.
Thus goes the story of our adoption.