A few years ago, my potential mom-in-law gave my potential wife-to-be one of those expensive Nino Bossi purses. Yesterday, I noticed that my possible lifetime mate had stapled one of the straps that had broke back on to this extravagant bag. Obviously, she is in need of a new purse.
Given my engineer training, I immediately began concentrating on the 3 F's: form, fit, function. I had my almost-love-of-my-life empty her purse. Out poured wallets and checkbooks (note the plural), enough keys to unlock every locker at a New York City bus station, a mountain of candies to make Willy Wonka jealousy, half of the Amazon forest in the form of paper receipts, and more embarrassing items than I care to mention.
Being the practical guy that I am, I suggested she get one of those small backpacks. She replied by adding two more F's to my strict engineering guidelines: fashion and an expression not printable in polite company.
Every day with her is such a joy. Perhaps "potential wife-to-be" is too definite of a term.
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