Thrifting, or repurposing, as it is called these days, is one of the activities I love to do with my kids. We’ve been all over the city, popping into Goodwill, thrift stores, and women’s club bazaars in search of hidden treasures at a bargain price.

I’ve found Levi 501 jeans for $10 and cashmere sweaters for $20. I’m driven by the idea of finding a Picasso for $100, when the owners don’t know what they have. I recently read of a girl buying a vase for $2 that turned out to be valued at $10,000.

We wanted one last adventure before Lindsay returned to college, starting with a store in Los Angeles we had yet to visit. Once through the door, we split up: literature for me, clothes for her.

After the books, I cruised over to the vinyl bin. My heart skipped a beat. The Jenga stack of books I was juggling tumbled to the carpet. I reached for the 1960s Broadway edition of South Pacific, performed by the original Broadway cast. My Aunt Margie was in that cast; she played Ensign Connie Walewska. I tucked it under my arm.

“Mom! Mom! Come here!” Lindsay had that tone in her voice that said that she, too, had found something. Really? How could it compete with my late aunt’s voice on a Broadway recording?

I couldn’t believe she showed me a giant, bulbous, blood-red, brandy-like snifter.

“What about it?” I asked. “Do you want it?” I hoped not.

“Mom, this is a real treasure.”

She captured my attention. “It is?”

She rapidly scrolled through images on her phone, “I think it’s a 1960s Italian red glass Empoli vase.”

I was impressed she even knew what an Empoli vase was.

“Here’s one for sale for $600.” She showed me a photo that looked identical to the one in her hand. “This one is costs only $40.”

We exchanged looks, our eyes growing larger by the minute. This was it!

“Get in the car,” I instructed, scooping up my books, album, and now an Empoli vase, and hurried to the check-out register.

I handed him cash, then dashed out to the waiting getaway car. I drove while Lindsay continued her research.

“Mom, I think I made a mistake.” Her excited chatter grew quiet, “The real ones have an Italian stamp.” Over and over, she rotated the big red vase. “There’s no stamp.”

“Well, that’s okay,” I said out loud, suppressing, You have got to be kidding me. What will we do with this oversized red brandy snifter that cost me forty bucks?

“I saw another one for $120 on eBay.”

Ah, that reputable online mercantile. “Let’s put this one on for $60 and see if you get any bites. If we can’t pay for your college, at least we can unload it.”

By the time we rolled into our driveway, we had a buyer.

I dug in the garage for a shipping box while she negotiated.

“Mom, the buyer asked if we could include a $500 eBay gift card. He’ll pay us back.”

I tossed the empty box aside. Scam.

“Looks like we have a new bowl for the car keys.”

We rested our new priceless vase on the piano and listened to my Aunt Margie sing, “I’m going to wash that man right out of my hair and send him on his way.”

Now, there’s a priceless treasure.

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