Handbag

There are some expressions that fill me with terror, or make me incensed, or both. Amongst these are:

'Come round for supper - bring a game!'

"Have you heard the good news?"

'Look, I only had lamb tikka and rice, and a diet Coke. Here's a fiver -
sorry - got to catch the last tube.'

'He won't bite - he's only playing!'

'Now you'll want the extended warranty with those Post-it notes sir.'

But the one that is currently top of my fear-factor scale is
as follows:

Me 'where are the sweeteners?'

Missus 'They're in my handbag'

Me (nervously) 'can you get them for me?'

Missus 'They are right there: Look in my handbag'

Gentle reader, are there more bloodcurdling words than 'Look in my handbag'?

I don't want to go in there. It's big and smelly and dark and unfathomable.. There are things in there I should not need to know about. There are things in there no man should be subjected to. So you have a tentative root around. Things jangle. Some are squidgy. Some are sharp. Some leave smeary makeup type deposits on your hands. And many tissues, which don't get me wrong, I do sometimes find useful. She always carries enough tissues with her to soak up Lake Baikal.

Are you sure they're in here?

And ten minutes later, when you finally get to the bottom of the bag and start collecting bits under your fingernails, she says, 'Don't bother: I've got them here: could you just pass me that old tissue please?' (Shudder)


Picture of my missus' handbag and one of the unusual objects I found in it once.