Bags, men and why I understand their suffering now......

So today I have finally realised why women’s handbags drive men nuts......the lifetime it takes to find the perfect size for whatever it’s wanted for. Men don't get it and so they suffer.
 

Take me for instance, I have a backpack which fits neatly on the back of my wheelchair.  Great;  it’s great.....except when money’s wanted for anything.  Then because the rest of the family are apparently frightened I have attack moths in there or mousetraps, they refuse to get my purse out.  Instead it’s tugged off the rear of the wheelchair, gingerly handed to me as if it might explode, then I have to root around in its depths to find the purse, extract the money, pay and then we go backwards on this path until the thing is ensconced once more on the handles of my wheelchair......all whilst a queue of understandably frustrated swearing people grows behind us.

Now, I don’t know about you, but I loathe being forced to queue forever whilst some idiot flounders around for purse/wallet; so when I am said idiot, it’s even worse.  Therefore the backpack was replaced with a small handbag that can be slung across my body, fit the most ‘wouldn’t survive without' stuff into it and still fit down between me and the side of the wheelchair.

Great; this one was great too, honestly.......except when I found that the daughter or husband, in their horsing around, had hurt me or themselves and a plaster was needed – but I didn’t have them because there was no space and so whichever one of us was bleeding had to either continue to do so and just wrap a tissue round it or, in the case of a cut finger, put the digit in their mouth and deal with the blood that way.  I really don't know how vampires do it because, frankly, blood is disgusting.

So now I’m looking for yet another bag – this one has to be very cheap (not more than £5/$8 approx inc P&P), smaller than my backpack, bigger than my handbag, fit across my body and beside me and yet be big enough to carry plasters, purse, phone and painkillers (the latter being a must ‘must have’).

What started out as a casual forage has now become a quest – Sir Gawain probably had more luck when he went searching for the holy grail, than I’m having with my current bag hunt.

Now, I'm swearing up a blue streak as I realise yet another bag I had my eye on on e-bay is too small and the shop ones are too expensive; I finally see what men have to suffer – and not only with bags; shoes too.  How many men have watched their female companion visit every shoe shop in the district and, at least seem to, try on every shoe in every one of those shops before deciding it was the first pair, in the first shop they liked best.......only to schlep back there and find the shop's sold the only pair in the female’s size?  

Does she give up, buy him some beers as a reward/compensation?  Nope; the whole merry go round just starts again.

So, to all men who have suffered in this way, I offer my sincere condolences, my deepest sympathies and my assurances that nothing is ever going to change.  Sorry; but we women must have the right bag and the right shoes to do the tasks we need them to – you wouldn’t expect a woman to wear stilettos to go hiking (though I have seen a few women do so); you wouldn’t want them to take a clutch purse to the gym; therefore we (and you) are doomed to keep searching for just the right shoe and just the perfect bag.  

I am only attempting to sympathise with the men whilst I am, admittedly, one of the females torturing them.  Basically, I understand your torment, I just can't do anything to stop it.

This is Simi, thanks for reading......