Not your average bag lady.

by Julie Chen Allen

While I was digging for my wallet the other day, the cashier commented to me: “That’s a big ol’ purse you have there!”

I’m sure it was meant to be an impersonal, mundane comment (like “Nice day today”); but, for some reason, it sounded more like, “My, what big teeth you have!”

I would have snapped back with a biting retort, except Big Bad Wolf seems to have lost Little Red Riding Hood inside a gigantic purse. So rather than formulating smarty comebacks, I had to focus on finding my wallet.

After finally fishing it out from the very bottom, I forewent the smart remarks for a sheepish excuse instead: “Well, you know, better to hold my whole life in…and it’s big enough, just in case."

Just in case they get bored.

Just in case they spilled something.

Just in case I’m waiting in line and have a free minute.

Just in case my phone dies.

Just in case I run to the store and need those coupons.

Just in case I forget it’s that time of the month.

Just in case I didn’t have time to put on my makeup.

Just in case the weather changes.

Just in case someone runs a fever or gets a migraine.

Just in case my hair gets flat.

Just in case I get around to paying my bills online during lunch.

Just in case…

Try as I may, time and time again, I’ve not been able to successfully downgrade the size of my bag. It is literally big enough for my toddler to sit comfortably inside. It was as if my purse grew in size as I aged, expanding at its waistline just as I have expanded mine. Stuff for the kids, stuff for myself. Stuff for planned events, stuff for spontaneity. Quite simply, I have endearingly nicknamed it my just-in-case bag.

Or my husband might call it, my real love handles – those that go atop my shoulder.

So I try to slim down. I toss out the floss and toothbrush. I leave behind the spare socks. I even, gulp, relinquish the pouch of nail polish and file. Like, seriously, when would I have the spare time?

But as Murphy’s Law would have it, whatever else I didn’t bring always ended up being exactly what I needed. Didn’t bring my first-aid kit? Someone accidentally draws blood. Left my make-up bag? My face breaks out. Decided to leave the spare change of clothes? Toddler pees on himself.

It was just not meant for me to leave the old bag home so I could glimmer in glam. I mean, what if I get a flat tire and have to walk in the sun? I’ll need extra sunscreen.

So long has this dilemma gone on that I’ve apparently forgotten to think outside of the bag…er, I mean, box.

Not long after I started writing this column, I was heading out with my bulging bag when my dear husband simply said to me: “Why don’t you just put everything in the car so you don’t have to lug around that big ol’ thing? You have to drive everywhere you go anyways.”

Now there is an idea.

Yow! Mama’s got a brand new bag.