Random acts of stupidity annoy me, particularly when I have the starring role. My husband and I work different days and shifts. This typically means I leave for work while he is sleeping and by the time he arrives home I am already asleep. Knowing that solid marriages do not thrive without effort we make a point to carve out “us” time. Currently that means Saturday morning breakfast at Whataburger. One particular weekend I was not feeling well and slept past my normal rising time. I was saddened to awaken alone. Pulling my Medusa locks into a ponytail and stumbling down the stairs I find my breakfast buddy working quietly on his laptop. Since the breakfast hour has come and gone I cuddle on the couch for a chat; that is until the morning respite is broken by the bottomless pit with the moniker Bubba. Maybe the family living room is not the wisest choice for togetherness. Always dynamic we opt for Plan B; an early lunch at Whataburger. Sweet success coupled with tasty onion rings! What more could a girl ask for?
Fast forward a few hours. The bliss of my date has worn off as Saturday doldrums AKA laundry kicks in. Despite the monotony of weekend chores all seems well until number one son requests a coupon for a free movie rental. Being the “all together” woman that I am, I know exactly where the coupon is: in my purse, in my wallet, in the zipper part where the change usually belongs. Except, where is my purse? Beside my nightstand where I always keep it? Nope. Harsh reality strikes like a lightening bolt, the purse hitchhiked to work with my husband. How could I be so stupid? Suddenly the day’s plans crumble like a dried leaf. How could one charming navy blue, silver accented bag hold so much power? Running errands and paying bills are difficult to accomplish sans car keys, driver’s license and checkbook. What now? Plan C? Of course whatever I choose to do someone else will have to drive AND pay. Well now, maybe having a travelling purse is not so bad after all.