My wife’s new purse is real leather and large enough to hold her laptop. The old, small purse still jangled with the coins, pens, and other detritus left abandoned within it. I carefully vacuumed it out before putting it into the donation bin for Christian Thrift. She mocked me for troubling to clean it. But my three home-made, counterfeit peppermints—their wrappers worn thin by constant rubbing against the coins—had broken into chunks, and I couldn't risk any lethal crumb remaining in the purse when donated.
So that hadn't worked. I shall have to think of a new plan.
So that hadn't worked. I shall have to think of a new plan.
