We took a walk tonight with our neighbors and their kids. Watching everyone run around in twilight reminded me of playing outside when I was young. Mom would send us out the door and we came back when the sun went down. You tried to stick with a group of older kids. Not because they were watching you, or even wanted you. But because if you didn't keep up with them your ass was going to be lost and snotty crying at sunset.
I recall one time I was with a group that was older than usually let me tag along. They thought it was really cool to hop into the big blue dumpster and look for treasures. And a treasure I did find. It was a porcelain baby Jesus with pink nail polish all up and down the front. Who would throw such a thing out?
I ran it home to mom and told her where and how I got it. She helped me take the nail polish off so I could clean it up and give it to my Dad. I must have figured that since he was a minister he would love something Jesus related. Plus if I got on his good side he might let me eat the communion wafers. Those were crunchy delicious.
Looking back I don't recall my mom freaking out about the dumpster diving at all. I know I never went again so I imagine she talked to someone. But mostly she helped me polish up my find. I think the next time someone asks me how I got started looking for vintage buttons and such I'll tell them it all started when I went dumpster diving for Jesus.