Exactly WHAT Is Inside a Woman’s Handbag…and WHY?

The other day, I was at one of the kids’ tennis lessons when another mum asked me if I had a tissue or baby wipe on me.  As I dutifully waded through my handbag (or purse for those of you Stateside) – and I really mean waded through – some underwear flew out of the bag. I kid you not.

That evening, I remembered the phrase about how you can tell a lot about a woman’s mind from what’s in her handbag. (Or maybe it’s what a woman’s house looks like from the state of her handbag?)  Either way, I’m so screwed. Now, I don’t hold a doctorate in Forensic Object Analysis (if that’s not actually a thing, it definitely should be) but I reckon  my handbag contents say a lot about me… and I can probably figure out what  all by my clever little self..

So if you’re ready for the good, the bad and the ugly of what’s inside my handbag, let’s begin:

One chocolate bun thingy (to use its official name): No idea why there’s just the one…I have three kids. I guess it’ll  have to be a fight to the death between them over one lonely  chocolate bun thingy.

Open bag of mini Dutch waffles:  Not sure which day I put them in there. Not sure which month either to be honest. Not even sure that a load of syrupy glucose-filled mess is the best form of nourishment before their after-school sports activity.

Sparkly pink princess fabric wallet: Because mother of two girls: there is always something sparkly, pink and princessy in your handbag.

Four bananas: Because I felt guilty over the crappy zero nutrition waffles? No idea why there are four. I have three kids. Clearly I’m struggling with the ratio of food to child thing.

Aforementioned panties (yep they’re still in there): Cheeky K’s…not mine. Because when you have kids, someone’s underwear always seems to end up in your bag. You need to be a parent to get this (although one of my friends who is a parent didn’t get it. Mental note to self: unfriend that weirdo).

Travel draughts/chess: Erm, I may suddenly get the urge to play a game (against myself?) while running my morning errands?

The belt to one of Cheeky K’s cardigans: Because apparently we don’t possess an actual wardrobe to store her accessories and underwear, judging by what’s frigging turning up in this bag. (Don’t look at me. I told you this is what happens when you have kids. I swear, stuff just ends up in your bag and most of it isn’t even yours.)

Antibiotic ointment: Because Doe-eyed D had a wart removed from his finger a while ago, an ‘event’ that will remain etched in my memory and quite possibly the memory of everyone in the waiting room outside because the screaming was like Nothing. Else. On. Earth. And why would I put the ointment in the first aid box, that has a dedicated storage place in our bathroom, when I can carry it around with me letting it squashed at the bottom of a huge bag? Huh? HUH?

Prescription for said ointment: Because it needs to stay in my bag another three months so that it is finally so crumpled and illegible that it will be pointless filing it away. At which point, what will I do? That’s right: file it away.

Tampons: Don’t worry, most of them are in a chic pink and black tin, so the kids have thankfully managed not to mistake them for snacks.  Yes, I said most of them…there are several loose ones rolling around in the bag too. Again, DON’T WORRY, they’re individually wrapped. I believe this more than adequately describes my feminine hygiene situation (and has more than adequately just lost me a few readers). Incidentally, to my male readers who tell me this blog gives them an insight into a woman’s mind, I am sorry..and yet also rather glad to be of service.

Bush Naturals Organic face cream: Because I take skincare seriously (translation, I’m too rushed to apply it before leaving the house in the morning).

My Klean Kanteen stainless steel water bottle: I said goodbye to constantly buying small plastic water bottles in 2006, for environmental/health/cost reasons and this thing literally is one of my most prized possessions. Go figure.

A grocery list from…last year? Don’t ask me.

Pure Republic Pukka Skincare brochure: Which I’ll eventually get round to reading once my skin is too aged to be rescued by any form of skincare or when the company that makes it has shut down.

Hello Kitty mini notepad: See point 3.

Cyclone hair wax: Kind of ironic considering  I neverrrr use hair products apart from shampoo and conditioner. But then, these days my hair looks like an actual cyclone hit it.  In the bag.it stays.

Makeup Bag: No explanation required.

Neals Yard Hydrating Facial Mist: Yep, with this many toiletries/cosmetics, all I need is shower gel and shampoo and I could actually get ready inside my bag (it’s big enough).

So many supermarket receipts that my wallet won’t shut: Well you never know when you’ll get the urge to check what you paid for 641 grammes of carrots back in April 2013, now do you?
Business card of the pest control man: In case I need him to come round and spray my kids. I mean bugs.
Cable for my Mac plus USB stick: No laptop…just the cable and the USB, you understand…
Socks: Mine… Why? Or more accurately WHY?
Tangle Teezer hair brush: logical enough, especially considering previous cyclone comment.
The label from a cereal bar – just the label: Obviously waste bins don’t exist.
Usual suspects of house keys, car key, phone, make up bag etc: Praise be! It’s a miracle I actually have these on my person…ask anyone who knows me.
Sunglasses: Because I may leave the house without my keys or wallet or brain on an alarmingly regular basis (read Ten Signs of the Scatty Mama or I Don’t Know How She Does It to see what I mean) but I will NEVER leave the house without my sunglasses, you hear me?
Remote control to Hubster’s office garage: Man I hope he doesn’t read this post…was meant to put the damned thing back in the car after a near disaster recently.
What does it all mean?
1 That if they do a remake of Mary Poppins, they should pay me for the use of my bag for that scene.
2 The only thing I have a doctorate in is how to fit the maximum amount of crap into it.
3 I’m apparently terrified of having messy hair, dry skin or someone going hungry.
4 When I’m suffering from writer’s block and need inspiration for a blog post, I can just look inside my bag.
5 If we ever run out of storage space at home between the laundry room, the closet, the storage room, the office and everyone’s wardrobes, there is nothing to worry about (see point 1).
Told you I was clever.