Potpourri

A mixture of the spices of life: humor with subtle hints of nostalgia and spirituality.

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Location: Ohio, United States

These are stories that have appeared in my "History She Wrote column" in the Dayton Daily News or a book titled "A Hike Through History" that I wrote for Third Graders.

Sunday, January 30, 2005

Curse of the multipocket purse

Curse of the multipocket purse By Rosalie Yoakam My husband, Bill, sometimes suggests that I leave my purse at home. He doesn’t understand that I simply can not leave home without it. Some of the things in my handbag are vital. I might need that wadded up tissue or the lipstick worn down to the metal or the aspirin that has been in there so long it is powder. For some time I have dreamed of an orderly bag. Most of my purses have been shoulder bags and I’ve been disappointed that they contained only two spaces to organize items. So, I was really excited when I purchased a new purse. It has five pockets and compartments in a nice compact shape. I didn’t even mind that it weighed five pounds when loaded. Finally, I thought, I would have an organized handbag. The reality is I can’t find anything. I forget if I put the checkbook in the zippered pocket on the back or the snapped flap on the front. And, although I am sure I put the car keys in the middle zippered compartment, I can’t seem to find them. Part of the problem is the middle compartments are narrow and deep and naturally keys being heavy fall to the bottom. So, I stick my hand in, up to my elbow, and sort sightlessly through the debris. It reminds me of one of those games we are forced to endure at baby or wedding showers. Can you guess what is in the bag? Sure, I’ll guess. Just don’t ask me to retrieve it. Instead of the keys I will pull out nail clippers, lip gloss, and a little flashlight. I especially hate this searching game when I am hurrying to my car in a huge parking lot. All the way I’m digging for keys, dropping rejected items back in, and praying no muggers notice my plight. Other things, difficult to find in the inner recesses of my purse, are ball point pens. This is a real problem when I am in a checkout line. First, I must find the checkbook. Once I discover the checkbook, I need something to write. There is an elastic band near the checkbook in which to slip a pen. But, invariably, someone forgot to replace it when they finished using it, and now it is dancing with the keys in the dark. And, I must take time for another fishing expedition. This time I come up with a tin of tea bags, a tube of hand lotion, and an emery board. By the time the pen surfaces, people in line behind me are humming and I don’t think it is Christmas carols. I’m ready to send this mutated kangaroo of a purse to meet its maker. Perhaps Santa has the right idea. Just toss all the toys in a bag and sling it over your shoulder. When you want something, open the sack wide. At least you can see what you are sorting through.

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