The "Mom Purse"
Let me 'splain...
For years, I refused to carry a purse at all. I thought it was so nerdy. But alas, sometime in my early '20s, I finally relented and adopted a small little dainty girl purse. 
The dainty girl purse was only big enough for my car keys, a tube of lip gloss, and a check book (barely). I could carry it three out of the four weeks in the month (girls, you get my reference) and it looked so feminine and young. Ah, but alas, sometime in my mid-twenties, I became married...and moved on to...
The married woman's purse. This one had to hold a bigger checkbook (now, I had a mortgage to pay) as well as multiple cell phones (no longer had the briefcased-size "mobile phone" in my car, though...so guess that was a plus), business cards, and a bigger lot of make-up...couldn't count on my fresh youthful skin holding out past, oh, say, 9 AM, without multiple touch-ups. I still felt fairly chic in my Liz Claibourne model of red until I had kids...and then...
Alas, the Mom Purse has arrived (or, as Husband calls it, my SUITCASE!). I call it the "black hole" because it carries everything but I can never find anything in it. My cell phone rings and goes to "missed call" status as I frantically dive headfirst into the Mom Purse to try to uncover it. I can carry 14 library books, a spare pair of socks, Band-Aids, sunscreen, lotion (black skin always needs more), a wallet roughly the size of Kentucky (hey, I have to afford to keep black hair looking nice...which is about the same as a second mortgage), and an even bigger make-up bag (forget dewy youthfulness...I mean, I still have the acne of a teenager but now it is mixed with the beginnings of laugh lines and crows' feet..."Why, God, why?").
The dainty girl purse was only big enough for my car keys, a tube of lip gloss, and a check book (barely). I could carry it three out of the four weeks in the month (girls, you get my reference) and it looked so feminine and young. Ah, but alas, sometime in my mid-twenties, I became married...and moved on to...The married woman's purse. This one had to hold a bigger checkbook (now, I had a mortgage to pay) as well as multiple cell phones (no longer had the briefcased-size "mobile phone" in my car, though...so guess that was a plus), business cards, and a bigger lot of make-up...couldn't count on my fresh youthful skin holding out past, oh, say, 9 AM, without multiple touch-ups. I still felt fairly chic in my Liz Claibourne model of red until I had kids...and then...Alas, the Mom Purse has arrived (or, as Husband calls it, my SUITCASE!). I call it the "black hole" because it carries everything but I can never find anything in it. My cell phone rings and goes to "missed call" status as I frantically dive headfirst into the Mom Purse to try to uncover it. I can carry 14 library books, a spare pair of socks, Band-Aids, sunscreen, lotion (black skin always needs more), a wallet roughly the size of Kentucky (hey, I have to afford to keep black hair looking nice...which is about the same as a second mortgage), and an even bigger make-up bag (forget dewy youthfulness...I mean, I still have the acne of a teenager but now it is mixed with the beginnings of laugh lines and crows' feet..."Why, God, why?"). This purse is large enough to carry a newborn. I could tack it on top of the van to become a luggage carrier. If I held onto the straps and turned it upside down, I am fairly certain it would be a trusty parachute. 
So there you have it...big, bigger, biggest...good, better, best. Laugh all you want, but if you get pushed out of an airplane, you are going to wish I was in the air beside you!
2 comments:
Oh Janie Jo, I can always count on you to give me a good laugh and some memories as well! Thanks!
It's true...all of it...Dave has even likened my purse to a Mary Poppins carpet bag when I'm trying to find my ringing cell phone...and that maybe I'd be pulling out a potted plant or big mirror next...
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