See, the stuff we got was NICE. Like, REALLY NICE. But it was too big for my small space (imagine putting Barbie Dreamhouse Furniture into a shoebox. And not even an LA Gear shoebox. We're talking Payless shoebox. For flats. Toddler size flats. I am good at analogies).
So we did the philanthropic thing, and considered who in our family could use some nice furniture, and right away we think of my sister-in-law who has been wanting s nice set of furniture, especially now that her in-laws are moving in, and we pass it all on. "Our gift to you, for not living inside a shoebox." Everything except a chair I couldn't decide if I liked or not, and a dining table that everyone describes as BEEEE-YOU-TIFUL.
The dining table is just too big for our space though, and on top of that, it is inlaid with tile, so the surface is textured, which is so not going to work for rolling out christmas cookies and play dough. Plus, the chair seats are covered with fabric that I know nothing about, and I just saw visions of Milk and Cereal Disasters. It gave me anxiety. I nearly gave the whole table away before I realized that our IKEA table still badly needed replacing. So I'm selling the thing.
And I have no idea what I am doing. I am not made for Craigslisting.
See, I think the table might have been purchased for somewhere around $6,000. No seriously. So I'm thinking, "Okay, put it on Craigslist for $2000?" Except who would buy a $2000 table on Craigslist? Shmucks and Nobody, that's who. So I think, "Maybe I should lower the price? $1000? $500?" Except then I think, how can I sell a table for that much and expect to get something this nice in return? And then the answer comes to me: I CAN'T! I can't sell something this nice, and expect to get an equally nice replacement, because that is not how Craigslist works. At best, I can make a trade, and get somebody's old high chair and a box of VHS tapes in return. Because that is reality.
Then I think, okay, so the table is probably not going to work out. It won't be enough to buy something we like. But maybe I could sell the chair and ottoman. It's a very nice chair. I look up similar chairs online, and they sell new for $900. Kind of adorable, really comfy, and I look on the bottom of the cushion and it says "Leather" and "Down-filled" and those things sound like something someone with money to spend would go crazy nuts for...
And then I get super-grossed out because I realize this chair is made of dead animals, and I JUST WANT IT OUT OF MY HOUSE!!!!! Ew ew ew. Gross Gross Gross. I am sitting on skin.
Oh, and also it makes me crazy having nice stuff in my house, because my kids like to jump on things and draw on things, and scratch things, and put spongebob stickers on things, and god, when did I miss that my kids are little heathens who badly need time-outs that last at least the next four years?
I just want someone to buy my wares, and then I can go to IKEA and the thrift store and buy much less anxiety-producing wares. Tables I can let my kids craft on. Chairs not made of Death.
I ask for too much, I know.