Amer started BOPM because of his living room floor.
More specifically, because of what was on it. Toys. Everywhere. A LEGO set that got opened on Christmas morning and hasn't been touched since. A kitchen playset that blocked the radiator for eight months. Three remote-control cars with no batteries and, honestly, questionable futures. A drum kit — look, that one was a mistake he's made peace with.
He's a dad. He knows how this goes. You spend a small fortune on something. The kids go absolutely wild for it for about a fortnight. Then it becomes furniture.
That bit was frustrating enough. But it was the buying that really got him.
You've done this. You know the tabs. You've got Smyths open. And Argos. And Amazon. And the John Lewis tab you swore you wouldn't open but here we are. You're cross-referencing prices on your phone while the kids argue in the background and you've completely lost track of which version of the thing you actually wanted. Half an hour later, you've either panic-bought the wrong one or closed everything in mild despair and decided they can make do with what they've got.
There was no good reason that had to be that hard. One toy. Six retailers. Fifteen tabs. No single place pulling it all together, showing you the cheapest price, letting you get on with your life.
And on the other side of it — when you finally admitted the drum kit wasn't staying — there was no obvious, trusted place to pass it on either. Just a jumble of apps, Facebook groups, and hoping for the best.
Find the best price on new toys without the tab chaos. Sell on what your kids have outgrown without the faff. And if the toy that lands in someone else's home means one fewer heading to landfill — well. There's that too.
Not a grand mission. Just a genuinely useful thing that didn't exist yet.