December 31, 2005

The Purse Talks

Hi there. This is Bethany's purse talking. Actually, I'm her new purse, brand spanking new, given to Bethany by her mother for Christmas.

I'm actually more than a new purse. I am Bethany's first real leather purse, purchased, not off Tar*get's clearance rack for $7.99, but from a real live department store. I am soft and supple and have multiple pockets and Bethany loves finding new things to store in me. Today, she shoved a diaper and wipes in one of my pockets and exclaimed, "They fit!"

I also hold a brand new wallet, another Christmas gift from her Mom. The wallet is so very, very soft. Soft like butter, and sometimes, when we are waiting in line at the drive thru at the bank, Bethany rubs her thumbs across it's cover and opens and closes it just to feel it's lushness.

She likes us, I think.

Which makes me wonder why she treats us the way she does.

You see, Bethany needed a new purse and wallet because hers were stolen. That's right. S.T.O.L.E.N. Right out of her car. Which she left unlocked. With her purse inside. I'm not sure if she also left a post it note on the windshield that said, "Please steal from me," but she might as well have.

In any case, since then, she has vowed to keep better track of her belongings, which is why her mom must have thought she deserved such nice new replacements.

So last night, she and her hubs were heading out for dinner and drinks. First they had to drop the kids at Grandma's. On the way there, I heard her say,

"Shoot..left my purse at home. Let's stop and get it on the way to dinner."

Left her purse? But I'm sitting right here, next to her, on the floor between the seats.

Hubs: "Do you really need it?"

Bethany: "YES! They may card me!" (Ummm, Bethany, you're 33, are you sure about that?)

Hubs: "Okey doke."

So here I am doing everything I can to call attention to myself. I even fell over a little to try to get in her eyesight, but then she started prattling on about the bird flu or something and forgot all about me.

So, they drop off the kids, get back in the car, and head for the restaurant. Uh-oh. Didn't they say they were going to stop and pick me up? Damn. I wish I had arms I could wave. Or a voice box. Something to get this woman's attention. Now Hubs is talking about basketball and I can see her eyes glazing over.

We're at the restaurant and she says, "SHIT. (Hmm, must have got rid of the G rating when the kids got out of the car.) Oh no, honey, we forgot my purse!"

Hubs: (chuckling a he used to this bizarre behavior?) "You really want that glass of beer tonight, don't you?"

Bethany: "YES! And they might card me.." (Ummm...she's pretty confident in her youthful looks, apparently.)

Hubs dutifully turns the car around and heads back home. Thankfully, it's a small city. In the meantime, I'm trying to send ESP her way that I'm right by her damn feet but she's not got the gift, it appears.

Return home. B. sprints up the front steps. I count 1-2-3-4-5, and out she comes of the house, looking a little worried, and oh, is that a little embarrassment on her face too? It should be. She climbs into the van, leans over her seat and BAM there I am, smiling up at her.

She looks at Hubs, with a little smile and a slightly crazy look in her eye:

"It was right here the whole time."

Hubs pats her leg, tells her to buckle up, and off they drive to dinner, him confident in the knowledge that all is well in his world. One flaky wife...check!

At dinner, they eat well, drink even better (and she was carded!) and she even gets a tiny little buzz from her two glasses of Razzberri Wheat brew. They have some laughs, talk mostly about the kids, then pay up and put on their coats.

But wait. Where is she going? She's leaving. But I'm still hanging here on her chair! Bethany!!!! Come back! Dammit! I'm your brand new first ever real leather purse! Don't leave me hanging here like some old tote bag. She'll turn around. She'll realize her mistake before they reach the car and come back for me, I know it. I'll just hang out here.



(Starting to panic...)

Oh no, busboy, you don't have to pick me up. I know she wouldn't leave without me. Oh, ok, well I guess she'll find me up at the front desk then.

(An hour passes...)

There's the phone, that must be her.

Hostess: "A purse? You think you may have left your purse?"

Ahh..that's her..thank goodness.

Hostess: "What color was it?"

A nice toasty brown...

Hostess: "You can't remember?"

She...WHAT???? She can't even remember what color I am? I'm BROWN! B-R-O-W-N. How hard is that to remember????

Hostess: "Ok..we'll see you soon."

Well thank goodness this ordeal is almost over.

You know, rumor has it that when Bethany's purse was stolen, she blamed it on the kids. How am I supposed to carry two kids and groceries AND my purse up all those stairs everytime? How can I remember to lock the doors when Sass yelling about doing everything herself and Party Girl is yanking on my hair so hard my eyes water? One person can not be expected to do it all! But I am witness, ladies and gentlemen..This entire incident happened while the kids were at Grandma's. It's not them, it's her!

So, I could have been owned by some rich, thin, socialite who lives in a tall, elegant house, and been carried to art exhibits and fundraisers, and generally treated as I was meant to be. But instead, I got this tired, frumpy mom, who forgets me, shoves me full of things like bottles, suckies, and little toys in the shape of princesses. She often drops me in the hat and mitten box right when she comes in the door, tosses her coat on top of me, then stomps around the house, asking everyone if they've seen me. The only one treated with less respect is the car keys, and that's a whole 'nother blog entry. Sigh..but at least, she probably won't forget me again.

Saturday morning:

Oh goodie, we're off to the mall with Sass and Grandma. I love to shop! We're all piling into Grandma's car to run across the street to another store, more shopping, yay! Now Bethany is getting into her van to head home. Home sweet home, after a nice morning shopping, here we go. Wait a minute. She took her packages. Shut her door. Now she's starting the van, and I'm still sitting here in Grandma's car....she did it again! AHHHHHHHHHHH!

Well, it may not be the life of luxury, but at least I've always got juice and crackers in my pockets if I get hungry....


Blogger Margaret said...

What's even funnier than this post is that you wrote it (and it's long) on New Year's Eve. Remember when we used to go OUT on New Year's Eve?

January 01, 2006 11:05 AM  
Blogger Her Grace said...

Yeah, you know, really? I don't. The last time I remember "celebrating" New Years was 1999, the year we all went up to Mark and Kristie's house. I had a shiny new engagement ring on and asked you to be my Maid of Honor, and had just gotten over the worst flu of my life, but stil managed to play Asshole for hours on end. Good times!

Since then, I think M. and I have loaded up on snacks and brought in New Year's in front of the tube. Last night, I fell asleep at 11 and he woke me up at 5 to midnight! How sad. But then my girls rang in the new year right be KEEPING ME UP UNTIL 4 AM, so that might explain a lot.

BUT, in our defense, we went out the night before AND Mom was busy, so what were we to do??? :)

January 01, 2006 9:37 PM  

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