Sunday, August 12, 2012

Told you so.

I recently downgraded to a smaller purse.
(I know. CNN-worthy material here.)

It went from something the size of a hiking backpack to something the size of (what feels like) a ring box on a string. (Slight over exaggeration, but not by much.)

Upon its purchase I was with my husband, who I adore. But on shopping trips he can occasionally be...less than convenient. When a girl goes on a shopping spree the last person she wants browsing the bargain racks with her is girlfriend Patty Practical. Lucas is her twin brother.

For example.

J-What do you think of this sweater, honey?
L-You have five of those already. Just in different colors.
J-Oh. Right.

J-How about these shoooooeees! They are perfect!
L-Why yes. They are perfect. For a librarian.
J-Hmmmmm. Velcro is a little outdated...

J-Well what about this spatula with cupcakes on it?
L-Wait...Do you bake now?
J-Shut up.

So you get the picture.
99.9% of the time I am so thankful for his honest and realistic feedback. The gratitude usually comes later on. Like when I review our checking account and see how much money we are saving by not turning my closet into a small department store.

But on that particular day, that .1% thought of "I want it" was steering the boat when I spotted what was (at the time) the cutest, small purse in green. It promised to me to be not just an attractive little tote, but a way to simplify my life through downsizing.

J-Ok,now THIS is practical. I know you will like this.
L-Is it a wallet? I thought you needed a new purse?
J-It is! See? My wallet fits IN it.
L-What about all your other stuff?
J-What do you mean, what stuff?
L-You know, girl stuff.
J-Girls don't always carry around a box of tampons if that's what you're saying.
L-No, I mean, your books and notebook and calender.
J-Don't need em'. I'm gonna be a free spirit. I don't need to be confined to a calender and I will write anything important on my hand.
L-(Long pauses with eye roll followed by a shocking...) Ok. Fine.
J-Really? Are you serious?
L-Yeah, now come on before I change my mind.
J-Ok, you are NOT going to regret this.

Oh regret.
I now carry you around inside the zipper pocket of my ridiculously-sized doll purse.

The first week we were in our honeymoon phase. I went to work and church as if an overflowing satchel was the most perfectly normal thing.

I can assure you. It is not.
As early as week two I realized there is nothing normal about a girl in a growing checkout line, holding up every Tom, Dick and Harry all because her wallet is jammed between her phone, mini calendar, 6 pens, 3 chap-sticks, a lollipop, and a myriad of coffee receipts.

The worst of it all is that he knows.
He knows he was right and how badly I want to buy every over-sized beach bag on clearance that I see. But my pride is too strong and I just can't bring myself to say those words out loud just yet. But it doesn't matter. Because as I said.
He knows.

I don't know how he figured it out...Maybe it's because I mutter "I curse the day I bought you" under my breath every time we are at a restaurant together and I go to grab our debit card. Or maybe it's the way I mysteriously "misplace" the thing everywhere we go...Who can say.

Either way, I have come to the extremely mature decision to handle this little dilemma by biding my time until Christmas. That way, Santa can bring me something a little more suitable to my toting needs. (Perhaps by then they will have come up with something on the market similar to a parachute with zippers?) Either that or I just need to get in touch with Mary Poppins and find out where she gets her carpet bags.

Saturday, August 11, 2012



Eat your heart out, Martha.

That's right.
Nothing to see here, just me getting my domestic goddess on with the ONE product of this summer's labor.

Shoot, gurrrllll.

I am going to homemade-salsa that sucker UP.