Tuesday, March 18, 2014

Day 77: Purse

On Sunday when we were up in the suburbs we stopped at a Korean Supermarket to stock up on things we can't get here.  We strolled through the shop and admired the many wonderful things, watched the live fish, tried the free samples, and picked out some snacks for the drive home. 

After that we went into the restroom for one last time before climbing into the car.  I took Miles and Liam while Dustin headed out to the car with our groceries.  Eventually we made our way out and in the meantime passes two very lovely and friendly ladies who were on their way into the restroom.

We made it out to the car, buckled every little body into a carseat, and as I climbed into the passenger side I asked Dustin what he did with my purse.

Which lead to him looking at me like I was crazy.  Which lead to me asked louder, "WHAT DID YOU DO WITH MY PURSE?" Which eventually, after a series of frantic sighing and gestures, lead to me running back into the Supermarket. 

The restroom was all of the way on the other end and I kept walking through my previous steps in my mind all of the way there.  I remembered hanging it on the back of the stall door.  It would surely be there.  I had left the restroom only minutes earlier.  It had to be there.

It wasn't there. 

I wasn't ready to panic yet, as there was still the chance that someone found it and turned it in.  I walk-ran to the customer service counter and told them what had happened.  No one had turned anything in.  I speed walked back to the restroom, beginning to allow panic to rise up into my throat.  I began examining every woman's purse.  I stopped at every food stall and makeup vendor to ask if anyone had turned it in.  I looked behind shelves and kiosks, back in the restroom.  In the trash can.  I dug in a public bathroom trash can.  All the way to the bottom. 

I marched back up to customer service promising myself that there was no reason to cry.

They still had not seen it.  I cried. 

Actually, I crumbled.  Right there.  I thought of all of the things in that stupid purse and how someone could take it and instantly have access to my whole life, and I just lost it. 

Completely defeated I walked out to my car, dropped into the passenger seat, and allowed myself to cry over something so stupid as a lost purse. 

It was more than the purse though.  It was about the fact that I had looked the two women in the face when we left the restroom.  They had smiled at me and talked to my children.  They had to have been the ones to take it because there was no time for anyone else to even go in there.

Then between my sobs and blubbering I heard Liam's little voice in the back of the car say, "Here it is!"

There it was.  On the floor of my car where I had set it so that I could buckle Liam into his seat. 

Today I am thankful that I can go on believing in the good in people.

I almost lost it that day, and for no reason.  I was terrified that a part of my trust had been violated. 

On the way home I had to answer a lot of questions about why I was crying, which reminded me that I must not cry very often in front of my children.  I can't decide if that is a good thing or a bad thing. 
How about you, do you cry in front of your kids?  I really would like to know.