The contents of women's purses are being displayed across the blogosphere. OHmommy over at Classy Chaos has tagged me with a meme and specifically wants to know what is inside a mother of three's bag. Since I just recently published a similar post about this very thing, I submit a repeat picture:
My children are eleven, eight, and four. At this stage of mommyhood, I no longer require a diaper bag or relatively large tote with handy pockets and dividers to hold all of the necessary items for diaper changing, feedings, or optional clothing needs. When you're a mother to older children, your purse becomes a receptacle for whatever they have tired of holding onto themselves. You know that item that you told them before you left the house that if they wished to bring it with them, they were responsible for its means of getting around? Fortunately, also at this stage, I often carry a moderately smallish purse which often cannot accommodate their larger items. This prevents any possible way to shove said item in my purse and forcing them the inhumanity of hanging onto their own crap and bitching about the injustice of it all. And gives me the opportunity to say "I told you so". Which? I say a lot.
During dinner last evening, Girl-Child's wheat roll had mysteriously disappeared from her plate. You should also know that her Sky Wishes My Little Pony (she has named Melissa) had joined her for dinner. When pressed on the whereabouts of her bread, the following happened:
Me: Where's your bread?
Girl-Child: (hem and haw) ...well... Melissa ...she climbed over the table ...and
Me: (considers this remote possibility) She did?
Girl-Child: Uhuh. And she got on my plate. And. And. And she spilled it on the floor.
Me: (totally unconvinced) Uhuuuuuh.
Girl-Child: And the doggy ate it.
Me: (my hands are now on my hips in traditional mommy form plus stern face) Is that what really happened?
Girl-Child: (BURSTS into inconsolable crying) Nu..Nu...Nooooooooooooooooooo... I.. I....I'm sorry I fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiibbbed.
There's just sooo many tears!
And, oh, the wailing!
I hug her and simultaneously stifle laughter turn my head to see rest of family hiding their faces to stifle own laughter at her grossly disproportionate reaction to getting caught in a fiiiiiiibbb.