Dooney and Burke and Me

Three weeks and three days ago, I was given my first real designer purse. A Dooney and Burke leather and canvas bag that, even though it is circa 1998, looks brand new. It actually doesn't have a giant decoy looking duck on the front either and is styled in a very sustainable fashion. So in all, I was pleased. I could carry a really nice bag that unless you looked really closely could not be recognized as almost vintage D&B.



However, it only took about 4 days and a little chocolate to prove that I am not worthy to carry an almost vintage 300 dollar purse. There I was leaving the 103 degree sweltering heat of the swimming lesson where sweat was streaming down my back and pooling at the top of my pants. I somehow staggered heat-stricken to the car and opened the front door while instructing the boys to belt themselves in. I turned the ignition of the car and ramped up the AC as high as my Volkswagon could go. Then I decided I needed to check in with my hubby. So I reached into my new D&B and came out with a brown and gooey phone. I held the chocolate smudged phone in my hand and panicked. My thoughts turned to the first day I carried my lovely D&B. It was going to be a long day at a mall and then a show. My boys might need a treat, or bribe, or a momentary silencer. Therefore, the the hershey kisses had been packed and subsequently forgotten at the bottom of the bag.



I spent the next ten minutes emptying and cleaning all the contents of my purse. Then I dilegently scrubbed the bottom of the purse itself with a wet wipe. All the while, I was shaking my head and thinking that this is the reason I buy my clothing at Walmart, and my bags on sale at a minimum 50% off. This is also the reason that I should have eaten those stupid kisses earlier in the day when I had discovered them at the bottom of my purse. But, no. I had had a moment of concern about my waistline and decided against it. I had placed the 4 kisses back in my purse for a much more messy fate.

The purse cleaned very well and so I gallantly carried it to Galveston, Texas where I knew nothing more treacherous than salt air would surely touch it.

We entered the Rainforest Cafe triumphantly. I had remembered at the last moment to go by a conveinent store to purchase a diet sprite for my littlest to drink at the Cafe. It was the first time all trip that I had remembered that restaurants carry diet nothing! I was proud of my self as I ordered my son only a glass of ice and took the Diet Sprite from my D&B. I admired how large this bag was and yet streamlined so nicely. At the present time it held a 20oz Sprite, several catheters, a camera, an extra pair of little boy underwear, lipstick case, wallet and etc. I still had plenty of room, say for some shorts. But, I digress about the bags ample innerds.
Anyway, then I placed the bag at my feet. I picked up the Sprite bottle and turned the lid to find that much pressure had built up under the lid. It spewed everywhere. It spewed on my lap, on the person next to me and it spewed inside the D&B.

I looked down at my bag. My hands dripped with Sprite. The D&B dripped with Sprite and I again thought that I was not meant to carry any purse over 50.00 and that was pushing it! I do still like the D&B, and I am sure it will be the only one I will ever own.

FYI - Aaron can't have any corn products as a general rule and therefore can not have regular sodas, or most other drinks at a restaurant. He can have milk and water, but that gets old.