What’s in your purse?

Last week I dug in my purse for my cell phone while a co-worker stood behind me. I pulled out a baked potato and set it on my desk. Anything winding up in my purse has the potential to be a shocker. And that’s coming from a person who doesn’t like surprises.

Too often my dad hid behind the back door when ran to the detached garage to gather laundry from the dryer. On my return, he’d jump out and yell, “Boo.” I knew there was a good chance he’d be there, but I’d scream anyway.

My kids thought, and still do, that I am out of touch with the younger generation. I don’t understand peer pressure and what they are up against. They think I’m a prude. It further solidified their stand when I admitted I’d never watched The Simpsons.

I may be a fuddy-duddy, but a fuddy-duddy with a soft heart. I took my son’s car in for an oil change when his day was too jam-packed. As I waited in line for the service manager to hang a number on the rearview mirror, I caught sight of a pack of cigarettes in the driver’s door cubbyhole. This fuddy-duddy didn’t want any mechanic to associate me with this addictive habit, so I inconspiciously slipped the pack in my purse. As with most items swallowed by the black hole, I immediately forgot about my new possession.

That night at a family dinner, the exchange of car keys required me dragging my purse to the dining room table. I stuck in my hand, and pulled out the pack. “Oh,” I said aghast, playing into the scene I had just created, “I’m down to three a day. Pretty good, huh.”

Pack of cigarettes: $5.00

Oil change: $39.95

                        

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4. Family vacation nightmare
5. Family vacation Chevy Chase style