by Neena Strichart
Last month I found myself coming and going with work events, social obligations and family affairs. I’m not complaining; it’s just a fact. I had mentioned to hubby Steve that I needed to get out and pick up a new purse but just didn’t know when I’d find the time.
That weekend Steve decided to do a little shopping and went out in search of summer sandals for himself. Coming up empty, my loving spouse decided to try to find a purse for me. As he tells the story, he left the shoe department and made his way over to where the handbags were displayed. There he carefully viewed the choices, concentrating on the type of multi-pocketed/zippered fabric bags he knew I would prefer. Once he had his selection narrowed down to two, he used his cell phone to call me. At that time, I was at home working on the computer. When I answered I could hear a lilt in his voice and assumed he had found himself a perfect pair of sandals. Wrong! Bless his heart. He stood in that store and over the phone carefully described the colors and features of each bag. Basking in his kindness, I shed a tear or two and encouraged him to choose whichever bag he thought would be best; after all, how could I not trust his judgment?
The gift doesn’t end there. When he came home I saw the handbag and squealed with delight. I then went in to take a quick nap before dinner. When I arose from my snooze, I found Steve had completely emptied my current purse, spreading all the contents on the coffee table. He sorted through the coupons, business cards, receipts, empty wrappers and other trash, neatly making piles of each category. He was, at that point, putting in my new purse all the items he knew I would need and/or want. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing!
I understand that some women may deem their purses off limits to husbands, but goodness knows I have nothing to hide, and certainly no hidden cash. I found his gesture to be one of the sweetest displays of affection I have ever experienced.
To commemorate the event, and show my appreciation, I have written lyrics to be sung to the tune of the Brady Bunch theme song. See below. And again, thanks, Steve. I love you.
Here’s a story of a gal named Neena,
who was wanting to go buy a summer purse;
but her schedule was so hectic and so busy,
her shopping days were cursed.
Here’s a story of a guy named Stephen,
who needed to do shopping of his own;
he went to look for sandals fit for fellas,
found none so moaned and groaned.
Then the same day Stephen thought of Neena’s wishes,
and knew that he could make his wifey smile;
so he went to where the store kept all the purses,
went up and down the aisles.
He found a bag, the perfect bag,
that is how Neena got her summer bag.
