These days, I have a normal purse, but back in the day, when the boys were little, it was a magical vessel of wondrous things.

Besides the usual bandages, tissues, wet wipes, there had to be Things to Amuse While Waiting in Line. At any given time, I had dinosaurs, small jets, small cars, and a sizable wad of homemade play clay in the depths.

In addition to the lines, there were recitals to sit through. Their piano teacher also taught several thousand (or so it seemed) very young violin students, whose performances were always first.

Once, when my older son was 5, there was a recital with more advanced students. I somehow missed this one, but sent along a fresh batch of play clay with his dad. As it turned out, the instructor completely forgot that he was on the program, which dragged on for almost two hours. He performed last. I should have had that batch of clay bronzed.

My younger son, who will graduate from college next month, was playing with my Hoberman key ring just the other day.