Tuesday, January 6, 2015


My wife loves purses, that's the one with a touch of dementia, the wife that is. She also loves fancy reading glasses but that's really not relevant because she loses them really quick like, them not being as big as purses usually, and them being reading glasses she really doesn't need them to find her purses which she loses too.

I'd really not like to get involved with her purses, them being purses and me being a guy. But that is not the way life works, at least for us. Purses are made to put stuff in, and my wife uses this concept to it's full advantage. If something will fit in her purse, the one she's using at the moment, and this something is missing in action, there's a 72.3% chance it will be in her purse. The problem here is finding her purse, really.

My wife, the one with the touch of dementia, in case you can't remember which one we were talking about, and I've become really good at making sure we're all within the same triangulation when dealing with these really big concepts... now I forgot what I was talking about.

My wife used to have her id strewn or scattered or lost, it's really hard to pick out the appropriate concept here, in every nook and cranny available for little pieces of paper and plastic which may or may really not play a significant role in her life. So me, really for my own self regalement, being more than a little concerned about never again finding one of these really unimportant pieces, went out to Walmart, of course, really, and up and bought her a handy dandy little fold with a thousand pockets for plastic and papers and salt packets and sugar packets and rubber bands and safety pins and paper clips. And it had a zipper which if it was used would zip the whole thing up into a secure pouch so my wife could lose everything all at once. It would make life simpler, really.

My wife loves her little fold with a thousand pockets and the zipper to zip the whole thing up. You wouldn't even want to know what she keeps in it and neither would I. She has never to this day lost her handy dandy little fold. She just loses the purse that it's currently hiding in. And that gets us back to purses in case you forgot what we were really talking about.

She changes them, her purses. Sometimes three times a day. Really. She gets tired of using one so she takes everything out and sorts through it and puts most of it back in another one, and then she misplaces it and we can spend an enjoyable adventure finding which chest or drawer or fridge compartment or perchance the oven it has run off to. And then she realizes that she's been using that purse for a really, really long time and it's time to change again so she happens upon a different model and...

I love my wife really lots, you know, it just helps to write this stuff sometimes to keep me sane, really.
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