Flea Market=Prize Mecca

For years, my parents have tried to get me to go to the monthly flea market at the fairgrounds. I have always excused myself from this ritual due to the fact that it was just an opportunity to buy more uneccessary junk for me to have to clean at my apartment.
However, now the flea market has taken on a new meaning for me. The flea market is a mecca for cheap prizes for my first grade classroom. You see, a prize box in the first grade is unlike other prize boxes. It is a compilation of useless things that become gold if found in the deemed "prize" box. I never really knew the significance of this until I arbitrarily put old, free, trail size bars of soap from a hotel, only to find that in a first grader's eyes, this prize was the equivalent of a thousand dollars. They say that "one man's junk becomes another man's treasure" and nothing could be more true for Miss Hock's prize box.

I run into another teacher at the flea market. She tells me that there are Sponge Bob pencils two aisles over and she has a great lesson plan in her hands that requires that I buy 22 dice. We thank each other and go our merry way.

It's interesting how the human mind works. When at the flea market I become a baracuda of sorts, where quantity is more imnportant than quality. For instance, within minutes, I found my first bargain of choice: candy. Candy can be bought at the flea market for mere cents. Additionally, I am not too proud to haggle with these people at the flea market with their drugstore buyout goods. Somewhere in the sentence I make sure that they know that I am a teacher. I am a predator that knows where the good candy and prizes can be found. After finding what I need, I simply go up to the cashier and chit chat. Seven bags of candy for $2.00 later, none are the wiser........