My girl and I went bowling on Saturday and I innocently told her that she did not need to bring a bag with her. She looked at me as if I had just landed from Mars.
So we started bowling and I broke a nail. Out of the depths of the bag, Sharon fishes a nail file and clippers and attended to the wound.
We were bowling with a friend and the poor girl got her finger caught between balls. Ouch! My dear Sharon immediately whips out a huge first aid kit and added iodine to the finger and then bandaged two fingers together. I personally think she was trying to stop the girl from beating her at bowling.
While eating, I dribbled some sauce on to my shirt. Understandable because when I look at Sharon I forget where my mouth is. Sharon brings out a box of wet wipes and cleaned my shirt. She then went off to reapply her makeup.
In this bottomless pit women call a bag, I have seen many things come out including creams and sun block and a hat. But I still have not found the hidden compartment where she stores her weapons …
This was originally published on my other blog, the SinglesWarehouse. Read the original here.