The black hole
No, I’m not talking about space, not really. What I am talking about is the space inside my purse. For some reason when something goes in there, well, it’s really in there. And to be perfectly honest, there are an awful lot of somethings in there. Need a mint; it’s in there. Need a comb or a brush or a hand mirror, yup it’s in there. Need a compact car; it might be in there.
Things go in but rarely come out. They just disappear into space. Have you ever had your cell phone ring and search till the ringing stops? I have, often. So I call back.
“Ok, Mom stop screening your calls!”
“I’m not, I just couldn’t find my phone.”
I know there are special little pockets made just for cell phones; a more organized individual would probably use that. Me, I’m always in a hurry and when I hang up, it’s any port in a storm.
Keys are another of those items that just seems to disappear. I know I got here with them, but when it’s time to leave, well they are just M-I-A.
So I resort to the only thing that works, the old spill and search. I dump the contents onto the first available surface only to find my son’s matchbox car. My son is 19. All joking aside, I really do change purses once in a while, still I find things in there I haven't seen in ages.
Voila! The elusive keys appear, in the only place I didn’t look, the cell phone compartment.