The Twenty-one Year Wallet

When I was much younger I got a job working at IBM.  I remember during that time I became infatuated with the brand Coach for purses.  I know the timing specifically because I was also dating this very nice gentleman who, on seeing how much I loved the purse and matching wallet I'd gotten, got me a matching key ring.

That was a long time ago.  I didn't realize just how long ago it was until I was at our girls weekend retreat this past weekend and my friend was talking about an unusual situation she'd encountered with a sales person and her wallet.

While she told her story, she pulled out her wallet and used it to demonstrate.  The story with her wallet wasn't important to me at that time though, what did strike me was how her wallet had some features to it I had never thought about before, or, well, I suppose in a long time.

After lunch, not three stores later, there was a store we all went in that happened to sell wallets.   Suddenly, twenty-one years after I'd adopted my current wallet, I was in the market again.  I pulled out my wallet and looked at it in detail.  Could it possibly be that old?  It looked in good shape.  It wasn't overly worn.  The change purse that had been carrying no doubt filthy change for decades still was in great shape.  Twenty-one years?  Really?

But it was so.  And I suddenly wanted a new wallet.  I found one in that very store that was inexpensive (unlike that Coach one, of that I am most certain).  So I bought it and when we got back to the house I moved to the new wallet.

So far, it's working out very well.  The only problem is I can't find it in my very small, very organized purse.  This is not its fault, or the fault of my purse.  It's my brain not recognizing the shape when I reach my hand inside the main compartment.  But I'm starting to retrain my brain.

I don't trust this new wallet that much though.  I mean, does it have the stamina to go for decades like my old wallet?  I was suddenly sentimental.  My old wallet is currently sitting empty, in my bedside nightstand drawer, just in case I need to go back to it in a hurry.  Say, if the other wallet falls to pieces one day unexpectedly.

The Big Boy Update:  He know his name.  I mean, well, he should know it.  But he knows his whole name.  When he's in trouble, I call him by his first and middle name, but he'd never said it back to me before.  And he knows his last name.  He even knows he has three names and that daddy and mommy have the same last name that he does.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Sung to the tune of "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" ... "Bye, Bye, Crinkle Little Star".  This is one of many variations she's been working on for this very popular song in our house.  Popular to her and her brother,  Daddy and mommy have had well enough of it by now.

Someone Once Said:  Never insult anyone by accident.