My Purse Could Solve a National Emergency
My Purse Could Solve
a National Emergency
There comes a certain age in a woman's life when her purse quietly stops being an accessory...
...and becomes a fully functioning survival kit.
I didn't plan for it to happen.
One day I was carrying a cute little handbag that held exactly three things: my wallet, my keys, and enough confidence to wear white pants.
The next thing I knew, I was hauling around what can only be described as a mobile command center.
❤️ Pull Up a Chair, Friend...
If this story already has you laughing because you know exactly what I'm talking about... you're going to fit right in around here.
At Rustic Roots Pantry you'll find funny stories, comforting recipes, digital cookbooks, kitchen adventures, and plenty of "Well... that's me!" moments.
Last Tuesday I reached into my purse looking for my keys.
Simple enough.
Should've taken about three seconds.
Instead, I uncovered enough supplies to survive a three-day camping trip.
There were two receipts from stores I don't even remember visiting.
Three peppermint candies that had escaped their wrappers and were now seasoning everything in sight.
Four lip balms.
Now, I only have one pair of lips, so I honestly don't know what kind of emergency I thought I was preparing for.
An ink pen that hasn't worked since flip phones were popular.
A tiny screwdriver.
Don't ask me why.
I don't know.
But I refuse to throw it away because the minute I do, somebody's eyeglasses will fall apart at Cracker Barrel.
Twenty-seven bobby pins.
Not one of them has touched my hair since Easter.
Half a pack of tissues.
One cough drop.
A grocery list that says "milk" five different ways.
Coupons that expired so long ago the cashier would probably frame them as antiques.
Three mystery keys.
None of which fit my house.
Or my truck.
Or anything I've ever owned.
And somewhere in the middle of this archaeological dig...
...I finally found my actual keys.
Under a measuring spoon.
Friend...
Why was there a measuring spoon in my purse?
I honestly have no idea.
But if somebody suddenly needed to measure exactly one teaspoon of vanilla in the Walmart parking lot...
I was ready.
That's what matters.
The older I get, the less I carry things because I need them...
...and the more I carry them because one time back in 1998 I needed one and didn't have it.
That one experience apparently changed my entire personality.
Need a bandage?
I've got six.
Need a safety pin?
Probably twelve.
Need reading glasses?
There's a pair somewhere in there.
Need a snack?
Depends.
How old are you willing to eat?
I've got a granola bar that has traveled farther than most people.
My purse has become a strange little time capsule.
A church bulletin.
A grandbaby's drawing.
A receipt from a road trip.
A grocery store reward card for a store that closed years ago.
Tiny reminders of ordinary days that somehow became precious memories without asking permission.
Maybe that's why we have such a hard time cleaning them out.
It isn't just paper and junk.
It's little pieces of our lives.
Tiny snapshots of who we've loved, where we've been, what we've survived, and all the ordinary Tuesdays in between.
Of course...
I'm still throwing away the ketchup packets.
Those things multiply faster than rabbits.
And don't even get me started on the number of ink pens.
If there were an Olympic event for carrying pens that refuse to write...
I'd bring home the gold.
Truth be told, I think women's purses are a lot like women themselves.
From the outside they may look ordinary.
But inside?
They're carrying everybody else's problems.
Bandages for scraped knees.
Mints for nervous grandkids.
Tissues for unexpected tears.
Phone numbers.
Coupons.
Pictures.
Hope.
Enough odds and ends to rescue just about anyone who asks.
We spend so much of our lives making sure everybody else has what they need...
Sometimes we forget to make room for ourselves.
So here's my challenge for you this week.
Go clean out your purse.
Laugh at what you find.
Throw away the receipts that belong in a museum.
Keep the memories that still make you smile.
Maybe even tuck in a little piece of chocolate.
Not for an emergency.
Just because you've earned it.
And if anyone ever tells you your purse is too heavy...
Just smile.
Because while they may have jumper cables...
You've got tissues, peppermints, three pairs of reading glasses, enough loose change to buy sweet tea, and a measuring spoon that's been faithfully standing guard since who-knows-when.
I'd say you're the one who's prepared.
Now tell me...
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When you stop by Rustic Roots Pantry...
What do you enjoy reading the most?
😂 Stories that make you laugh?
🏡 Everyday life you can relate to?
🍳 Kitchen adventures?
❤️ Encouragement for this season of life?
Leave me a comment below.
I truly read every one, and many of my future stories come from conversations with wonderful women like you.
❤️ Before You Go...
If today's story made you smile...
I'd love for you to stay awhile.
At Rustic Roots Pantry you'll find:
🌻 Come Sit Awhile Stories
🥘 Down-home recipes
📖 Digital cookbooks
🎁 Country Comforts by Mama T
Because around here...
You Belong Here. ❤️