Cleaning out the pantry closet, I found the Whirly Pop. It’s in good condition. It still works. We just prefer to use the old fashioned method of making popcorn on the stovetop in a big stock pot. What to do with the popper now that it has been rendered useless to us and cannot return to the closet from whence it came? (It’s a rule I enforce.)
“Maybe we can sell it on FaceBook tag sale,” was my husband’s suggestion.
So he took a photo and listed it.
“How much should we ask?” His brow furrowed. We don’t do this much.
“Find out how much it’s going for and cut that in half,” was my suggestion. And considering this is Corona time, ya gotta be flexible even with that. I thought it, didn’t say it. We are all in this thing. If a person is online looking for a Whirly Pop to make a healthy snack and can’t swing for retail, not a big deal.
He listed it for $10.
He got a response. The woman wanted to know if the price was negotiable.
It reminded me of a classified ad we had seen years ago in a small town paper while on vacation in the Northeast Kingdom in Vermont:
Used Dust Buster, $15. Needs work.
I’m sure the author of the ad did not know how frequently the words he penned would be quoted, but they’ve entertained us for years. Desperate times, desperate measures? it’s all a matter of perspective. Besides not making mountains out of mole hills, a sense of humor is paramount in life in general. Especially in times of crisis.
My response to my husband’s text? “Absolutely! Tell her $5 and you’ll throw in a piano and satellite dish!”
Our goal is not to make money on our old stuff. Our goal is to clean out our house. If we can bless someone else in the process, it’s a beautiful thing.
He sold the Whirly Pop for $6. I made him wash it before he drove the nine miles to meet the buyer.
Anyone looking for a sweet old baby grand? Price is right. . .