#6 -- The things in your purse
Alright. Purse dumped out on bed. Photo taken. Some of the junk that was found thrown away. Here's what we've got (prior to junk removal -- for honesty's sake):
It would appear my purse isn't necessarily the happening place to be. There isn't a single little cute canister of breath mints or package of minty gum. There are no fancy lip balms or rhinestone key chains (the only reason that little eye makeup compact is even in there is because I just bought it at the store today and it seemed too small to warrant an entire bag).
There is, however, a package of popcorn attached to a frosty coupon (Marnie, I was actually going to return it to you whenever I saw you again). There also seems to be a number of wrappers and papers -- receipts and all those coupons they are always handing you with your receipt at the store (I'm glad we did this purse thing -- I'd forgotten about the free RedBox rental . . . which, for us, means it will only cost 3 dollars as opposed to 4 by the time we take it back). The wrappers. Well, I can't imagine that I ate something as zany as whatever kind of treat came out of that Zots wrapper. I must have picked up after one of my kids. The Russell Stover's chocolate covered marshmallow Santa though? Guilty. I love those little guys and they've been gone since last December! Also, I am glad to note that I have carefully been carrying my little anaphylaxis kit around in case I accidentally ingest a Brazil nut; however, I am sad to note that that particular kit is roughly eight years past its expiration date. (I do have a more recent one in my medicine cabinet however that is only several months past its due date). That's about it for old pursey purse. Oh wait, that little mouth covering Mickey Mouse thing. Nobody was really sick. Penny just nabbed it from the doctor's office one day and I felt sheepish to put something back in the box for others to use when her sticky little hands had been all over it.
#7 -- Nicknames you have
Everyone has a billion nicknames in my family (some shared) because my dad is a user of nicknames -- often wacky and bizarre nicknames. So, along with a few that my friends and sisters occasionally use, I have been called (among other things), "Nanny goat," "Nanny-go-vitus," "Nancy Pants," "Fancy Pants," "Smarty Pants," "Nank," "Nanners Bananners," and then, there are those that my dad fondly calls any of us at any given moment like, "Piddleatrope." (No. I don't know why either).
It is now Friday -- and this began on Tuesday -- so, apparently I didn't finish the job during their nap time; nor did I kill three birds with one stone -- only a measly two. Nevertheless, the third one (number 8) is now completed in a new post -- as you may have already noted.