Saturday, July 03, 2010

The return of the purse

Remember when my purse was stolen the week before Colin was born? And the lovely Holly Aiken offered to make me a new one like my favorite old one? And then the Fayetteville police found it in the bushes the next day? But I went to pick it up on Martin Luther King Day, and they said, "Nope. That part of the building is closed today"?

Well, I finally went back down there to pick it up. I just hadn't had the energy or time to pack up the boys and head down I-95 to get my beloved bag. However, a few weeks ago, Papa and I loaded up Christopher and Colin and went to Fayetteville. This time, I called ahead of our trip. I'm smart that way.

It was a good thing I did because they only return property on Tuesday and Friday. We had been planning to go on a Monday.

We rearranged our trip to Friday and headed that way. I called again when we hit the road, just to double check. Again, it was a good thing I did, because even though the woman in the property office, or whatever they call it, knew I was coming that day, she had decided to leave early. I reminded her that she had told me on Monday that she would see me Friday at 1:30 to pick up my purse, and she agreed to stay.

How nice.

Of course, she could have left a lot sooner if we hadn't had to stand in the lobby for 25 minutes waiting on someone to walk up to the window and ask us why we were there and if we needed help. Or, if she had answered her office phone. Not really my issue though.

When she finally came out with the box, she asked me for my ID in order to claim it. Snort.

"It's in my purse. In that box."

When she opened the box, I was woefully reminded that it had been raining the weekend my purse was stolen. The mold that had grown in the box was over powering and made my eyes start to water immediately. Most everything in the purse needed to be tossed, and I was afraid the purse would too, but it survived.

I put it in the washing machine on hot when we got home. I figured I was going to have to toss it anyway - if it couldn't be cleaned like that - so what the heck? It came out perfectly. Looked brand new. I swear - I love Holly's bags. They are so freaking amazing.

The bonus part of the trip, and certainly the most random? There was a Salvador Dali exhibit in Fayetteville while we were there. I talked Papa into stopping and seeing it. It was his illustrations of Alice in Wonderland. Who knew? In Fayetteville of all places. It's an army town, not an art town. But it was a nice exhibit.

So that's the conclusion to the stolen purse. As you can see, now that Colin has decided it's alright to sleep without my boob in his mouth and without being completely on my lap, I have two hands to type and can possibly catch up here a little bit. Yay.