Maybe I was a bit hasty in my selection of a big summer purse on sale. My sister wants to know if terrorists carry LOUD purses. Of course they don't. They want to blend in! My son wants to know what on earth that thing is. This is not a fashion thumbs-up.
In the waiting room at the OB/gyn I complimented another lady-in-waiting on her big purse, saying I'd been looking for a big purse for my upcoming air travel. She took a quick appraisal of my new bag, and nervously began telling me the entire story of her life and of her daughter's European travels. Clearly, she was hoping the attendants from Chumley's Rest would arrive and take me back to the sanitarium if she could keep me distracted long enough.
Watch me pull a pooka out of my purse!
The good thing about the purse is it is large enough to hold an imaginary six foot tall rabbit, or a pooka. It is bringing me good luck, in that it's been raining here in drought-afflicted Plano off and on ever since I bought it. I'm hoping Jimmy Stewart will sit next to me on the plane:
Harvey is a pooka, which is described in the movie as, "From old Celtic mythology, a fairy spirit in animal form, always very large. The pooka appears here and there, now and then, to this one and that one. A benign but mischievous creature very fond of rumpots, crackpots, and...."
My sister sent my sons a Reading Rainbow book, Gila Monsters Meet You At the Airport, when they were small. When we look for each other at the airport this week, she needs to think "Hula Rabbits"!