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 Velcro is a little outdated...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.
