The Purse

I've known for months that I need a new purse. And while many women salivate over that very statement, I am not one of them.

I do not like shopping for clothes, but with enough endless hours at the mall, away from the distraction of my children, I can pony up and come home with clothing. Nothing that will ever be classified as hip. But it'll cover all body parts that should decently be covered, and I color coordinate well. Throw that together with a shower and a blow-dry and you get my idea of being fashionably presentable.

Accessories? Even worse. Shopping for that stuff? I prefer cleaning bathrooms.

I'd rather be barefooted than shoed. But if shoes are necessary, then Birkenstocks are King, because they kick off easily.

The only jewelry I wear consistently is my Citizen watch and my wedding and engagement rings. All purchased by Bruce for me, and each has a function: one tells time and the other says, "I am taken" to all those hunky men out there who would otherwise be hitting on me so much it would become a bother. Eventually.

Purses, while accessories, are also necessary. I just don't have enough pockets on my Plain Jane outfits to enclose:
-two sets of keys (One for my van, the other for Bruce's truck.),
-tissues (It's always either allergy, or cold and flu, season!),
-antibacterial gel,
-Carmex,
-hypoallergenic lotion,
-my container of Coffeemate creamer (Yes. Yes, I do carry it with me always. Because I do not like liquid creamer. Coffeemate is my friend.),
-a calculator,
-wallet and checkbook,
-a small notebook (I keep lists!),
-lots of pens (One might run out. I might have to loan out the second one. The third one needs company, so I usually have four.),
-pictures of the kids,
-a plastic container full of Bandaids,
-several packs of sugar-free Extra (You never know what you'll be in the mood for: something minty, fruity or just plain ol' bubblegum flavored.).

Oh, there's more, but you get the point.

I had to have a new purse. The old one was... ummm... I think, four years old. And it finally broke. Not the strap or anything essential, but it was broken nonetheless.

I put a new purse on my Wal-mart shopping list. Don't shudder! And don't act shocked. I just told you I don't care about purses, so Wal-mart is as good as Vera Wang in my book. (I'm not even sure Vera Wang does purses, to be honest, but it's the first fashion name that came to mind.).

A purse stayed on my shopping list for four months, because at each shopping trip my cart would get full, and other things were more necessary. Like peanut butter and jelly for the kids. Sometimes even meat or fruits and veggies. And we have a budget. That I try to follow. Eighty-five percent of the time.

But this past shopping trip fell within the other 15 percent of the time. I was bound and determined to get that purse marked off my list.

I ran into a friend and her daughter, Christy and Emily, and chatted with them a minute. Then I hit the toiletry aisle and moseyed, slowly, toward the section with purses.

It's just painful for me. Because I have no fashion sense, and I'm highly indecisive. Such a bad combination. I picked up one purse I liked, and toted it around for a bit, before picking up another. I hauled that one in the buggy, too, before I found a third one. I ruled out the first one and put it back.

I checked both ends of the aisle, wishing to see Christy and Emily so they could just tell me which one to buy. (Emily is in the Sunday school class I co-teach. She likes purses. I can tell.) But, no, they were nowhere to be found.

No, on second thought, that third purse was not as cute as the first one. So I traded them out. Now I had the first and second options in my cart. The second purse won out over the first one... because I didn't like the cell phone pocket on the first purse. Finally. A decision.

Shew! I moved on toward the grocery section. But by the time I got to the little girls' clothes, I was wondering if I sold that third purse short. I went back for another look. Nah, I was right. Not as cute. (Bruce often wonders what takes me so long at Wal-mart. It's all the choices I face.)

After finishing up in the dairy section, I ran into JoElla, my co-teacher and wonderful friend. Ahh! It was like seeing manna from heaven.

The first words out of my mouth, my greeting to her, were:

"Do you like this purse? I have to have a new purse and I hate shopping for purses but I just spent 15 minutes over there and I can't go back but I will if you think this one is ugly because there are two other iffy ones even though one has a stupid cell phone pocket but I could make do if necessary so anyway... Do you like this purse?"



And she said the words that just confirm what a great friend she is to me.

"I do like it. It's cute."

She's very concise.

I felt like Abraham after God told him to put the knife down and not harm Isaac. What a relief. I didn't have to go back to the purse aisle.

For at least another four years.