Look, I admit I might be a bit of a Girlscout. I like to be prepared. I don’t like to get caught with my pants down.
Well, I guess it depends on who catches me that way.
Wow. Please let that visual go. Just. Let. It. Go. Do yourself a favor.
My husband is a Girlscout too, but in a Boyscout kind of way. And really, Boyscouts are just Girlscouts, minus the awesome cookies. Do ya follow me? Try to keep up.
My Captain and I, we prepare for day to day life differently. I rely on tools. He relys on his brains, his cell phone, and his good looks. All he ever needs he can carry in his pocket: Wallet. Pen. Chapstick. Wicked Sharp Pocket Knife. That’s it! Done. And he survives! I mean, come on! Even McGuyver carried dental floss and C4 from day to day. Not my guy. He’s a minimalist.
Me, I’m all about the tools. All the absolutely necessary accoutrements for day to day living. My purse is the perfect example of this. It’s not really a purse…its more of a backpack. A nice blend-in-with-all-kinds-of-disgusting-dirt-including-whatever-sits-on-a-bathroom-stall-floor Khaki with embroidered Moose, of course. Washable canvas…though I’ve never tested that theory in the four years I’ve used it. No one has ever attempted to steal it, and I cannot for the life of me figure out why. It could be it’s the odd smell that comes from it. Or, it could be that it weighs nearly 50lbs.
It has one little outside pocket. Really, it’s about 4 X 6″ in size. In it alone I have:
My Cell Phone, if I haven’t lost it yet in any given moment.
A stack of paper.
1 tube of Chapstick.
1 Blues Clues band-aid.
A pony Tail Band.
1 used tissue.
And then there is the main compartment, or, as I like to call it, “The Black Hole”. Every few months or so I dump the contents of it onto the kitchen table, and it’s like Christmas. Today we found:
My wallet. Disappointingly thin.
My checkbook. Also Disappointingly thin.
An estimated 5 Kagillion receipts.
A Digital Camera.
A Flip Video Camera.
A Zip-loc bag full of various doctor’s business cards, gift cards to a couple of restaurants, our Hershey Park Passes from 2010 and 2011 (expired, obviously) and some pictures of the kids.
An empty travel pack of Kleenex.
5 or 6 bunched up, used Kleenex.
Motrin for Children.
Benadryl for Children.
Tinted Lip Gloss.
Mascara. (Seriously? Yes.)
2 different kinds of perfume (purse sized sprays, of course.)
Travel Sewing Kit.
First Aid Bag.
A 5 hour energy Caffeine Shot
A small travel Pill Box.
An asthma inhaler.
A fold up compact brush.
Listerine Breath Drops.
A four year old Nutrigrain Bar, thoroughly crushed.
2 Rocks (that critter found and insisted we take home, but never get taken out of The Black Hole, and so reside there permanently.
This is the perfect snapshot of my life. The things I always end up either needing, or being asked to borrow, or store. There used to be more, though. Before my Hysterectomy, I carried all kinds of female needs. I’m happy to not need those anymore. (Whooo Hooo!) I am here to tell you young-uns that Uteri are seriously over-rated! I say ditch it as soon as you can!
Here is an ode to my old Uterus:
Uterus, Uterus, oh where did you go?
You caused me such pain, I hated you so.
Uterus, Uterus, You I don’t need,
You gave me the cramps and you caused me to bleed.
Uterus, Uterus, why not choose males?
Let them cramp and gestate and swell like the whales.
Uterus, Uterus, I don’t wish you well,
As far as I’m concerned, you can go straight to **BEEEEP***
(** This Ode has been edited for younger audiences.)
So the other day, someone asked me if I had a stick of gum. Look up in that list. Look up in that @#$#%$%^$# List! LOOK. UP. IN. THAT. LIST.
GHAAAA! No gum! DOH!