Pages

Monday, May 21, 2012

The Bottomless Bag

My grandmother Anna had the best purse EVER. (I was named after her)  We used to scrounge through it for a solid hour during church.  It had everything in it.  Like "Lets Make a Deal" everything.  Flashlight? Check. Mace? Check. Candy? Check.  Aspra-Gum? Check.  I faked many a sore throat to chew on Apra-Gum did you?  It was deliciously fake orangy tasting.  And my all time hands down favorite thing EVER?  This tiny plastic container thing that held an origami folded up plastic rain hair/cover thing. Seriously, you didn't sit at the hairdressers for an hour every week just to have your hairdo all jacked up on the account of a little rain.  No you did not.  Oh.my.word.  I could unfold and refold that thing twenty nine times during a Sunday sermon.  She was prepared for the apocalypse.
Well lets just say I didn't inherit that from her.

So you know how sometimes you can get a weird compliment and somehow you're super impressed with yourself for getting it?  Well the other day I was sitting in the stands at a baseball game and someone next to me needed an alcohol swab.  Had it.  Then another needed sunglasses.  Check.  Migraine Meds.  No problem.  Sun Screen?  Name an SPF.  Winter Ski Gloves? Yes Ma'am.  Chocolate Chip Cookies?  Fresh out of the oven.  Purell?  Come on I work for Goodwill.   One of the high school girls next to me said.

"When I grow up I want to be a great mom like you and have everything in my purse."

What?

That may have been the nicest compliment I have ever received.  Simply because it goes against everything that I really am.  When my boys were babies and had a blowout I was lucky to have one ratty diaper and maybe a squished up tissue at the bottom of my purse to clean it up.  Extra Outfit?  yeah right.

My husband bought me a diaper bag.  Winnie the Pooh.  I know.  Diaper bags are stylish now.  Mine screamed MOOOMMM at the top of it's pastel lungs.  I get all cringy just thinking about it.  It mostly got left at home or somewhere where I wasn't.  Now my husband on the other hand could pack a diaper bag with three extra outfits, some bubbles, extra wipes, a plethora of healthy snacks,  perhaps a Passport and some extra cash just in case.  He won Mother of the Year every year. 

Take that Mister!  Someone just said they wanted to grow up to have a Mom Bag like MINE!   I seriously have a giant superiority complex right now.    Fist Pump.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Post a Comment