Look! A picture of cute kids taken a month ago!
I will pull out one item at a time in a dramatic fashion to show what one imperfect supermom needs in a purse. Oh, linguistics--you slippery bastard. Ok, what one imperfect supermom has in her purse. Her needed items would be far fewer and much less obnoxious.
One pair of toddler boat shoes--size 7.5. Mas got a new pair of shoes today, and the old ones rode back from the store in my purse.
One eelskin wallet, desperately out of place and getting mangled. It's one of the few things I got from my Bachan (grandma) when she died. She had a million eelskin everythings, and my mom or sister snagged this for me, thinking I would like it. It's dark red and kind of neat, and I try not to think about the eel. I'm not even delving into the contents of that, but they're somewhat reasonable.
One gray tanktop. We went to church and left with clothes--a gray tanktop that someone unknown had left 6 months ago and was headed to Goodwill and a small bag of lovely hand-me-downs for Mas from his older friends. We find it amusing that we end up leaving church with stuff all the time.
One journal. I wrote a couple paragraphs in it for the first time in almost two years last night.
One cute, striped reusable shopping bag.
California Baby Calendula Cream. My eczema-ridden hands live by this stuff.
Watercolor pencils. We went to Mas' friend's birthday party yesterday and had been flying around, so I put the pencils in for Mas to draw on her card. We, for the first time in a long time, didn't get to that, and he only dictated his message.
A My Panera card waiting to be registered. Hmmm, not sure that will ever make it up high enough on the priority list.
My cell phone and ear piece.
An epinephrine injection. Yep, anaphylaxis girl over here.
A plastic bag from Marshalls.
My little cute pink snap purse with 100% Pure makeup in it. Mascara, cheek tint, and lipstick. Love this stuff (thanks, Cara!) and put it on in about 2 minutes.
Inhaler. Yep, asthma girl here too.
One baggie of a few old rice puffs. No comment.
One bar of Dove Deodorant. In case my Crystallux hippie spray fails me when I'm somewhere important. It hasn't happened yet.
Keys.
A Harmonica and Egg shaker that are headed out of my purse and into gift wrapping to be delivered two plus months late as a birthday present.
Menu for the best Mexican restaurant that exists in this part of the world. We ate it tonight.
A flier from our Tenchi Kane No Kami Grand Ceremony and Konko Church of Portland 80th Anniversary of Establishment. It was two weeks ago.
Directions to the auto repair place and to the grocery store from there. Before you go thinking I'm really out of it: I went to a place out near my parents' house, so I wasn't sure. Hush.
Second container of CA Baby stuff.
Two dirty kleenex; I didn't want to leave them in the car in case the mice from the fields have returned. Too scary.
A punch card for the community center baby gym. That should be in my wallet.
It's like a freaking clown car in here, I swear. Actually, I have a clown car in here. With tiny little clowns. They keep me company when I'm lonely and help me with the kids when I need it.
Two mini containers of play-doh from the doctor's office a month or more ago.
A floss card that should also be in my wallet.
A bag with three cough drops.
I lied when I said two dirty kleenex; it's three.
One plastic bag with four benadryl in it. (See anaphylaxis above.) By the way, Shaifali occasionally pulls it out and gets it grabbed away from her.
My little receipt from work that says how long I worked that day and what I claimed in tips. Until a couple hours ago, my work book that I take orders and keep my money in was also in my purse.
This is getting embarrassing.
Four pens, three of which must have fallen out of my work book into the bottom of my purse, only to be replaced again the next shift.
A Barnes & Noble gift card that has a $1 balance or so.
Two bobby pins.
$3.34 in change. It doesn't fit in the eelskin wallet, so it needs a new home.
Dirt.
Directions to who-knows-where on a Borders receipt.
And in the little pocket of my purse: 10 bobby pins, 5 hair rubber bands, one pen, tags from Mas' new shoes, two bandaids (finally, something useful!), an appointment reminder for Shaifali's next check-up, another shift report, an unidentified and unfamiliar tiny piece of kleenex(?), stickers, a gas receipt from November (that was put into our spreadsheets months ago), a tiny scrap of paper with the name Jason and a phone number and 're: shelf' written on it (presumably a Craigslist interaction), and . . . a winning lottery ticket.
Before you go thinking this was all a ruse to tell you that we're rich, it's a lottery ticket that won $7. Better than a kick in the head!
Well that was thoroughly embarrassing. Imperfect Supermom keepin' it real, folks.
Now go clean out your purse . . . unless you're a man and don't carry a purse, in which case you can pick something else to clean. Now I will distract you and make you forget all about this post when you look at a picture that Mas took of himself and Superdad. Peace out.
