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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