My Mom’s purse was a truly amazing thing.
Regardless of what happened—bike crash, splinter, bee sting, broken zipper, starvation, boredom, bubonic plague, nuclear explosion—her purse held exactly what was needed.
And Mom could retrieve whatever was needed in a heartbeat, even if she was cooking or driving or singing a hymn at Church, while simultaneously pinching the fire out of me for misbehaving.
By rights, Mom’s purse should have been the size of a Samsonite suitcase.
But somehow, her “every day” purse and her Sunday “Go-to-Church” purse were normal size on the outside but as big as the universe inside.
It was magic.
How else can you explain everything that her purse held:
Half sticks of Wrigley’s spearmint gum, 10,000 Kleenex (some new, some with lipstick smudges; some slightly snotty; and one only to be used IN A DIRE emergency), sewing kit with needles and thread, tiny screwdriver for eyeglasses, ink pens, toy car and truck, car keys, eye drops and tweezers.
Band-Aids (all sizes), Neosporin, butterscotch mints, TG&Y spiral notebook, grocery lists, Safeway coupons, S&H green stamps, cinnamon and butterscotch mints, Blistex, postage stamps, magnifying glass, safety pins (all sizes), miniature golf pencil, Sonic Drive-in toy animals, and a piece of tailor’s chalk.
Small Tootsie roll, dry Nabisco crackers, Halloween-size roll of Lifesavers, cigarettes and lighter in her little holder thingee, throat lozenges, ChapStick, metal nail file, piece of string, fingernail clippers, plastic rain bonnet, Gunn Brothers stamps, emery board, pair of white gloves (on Sunday), blue eye shadow and mascara plus...
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