And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why I carry a big purse

It just so happens I have handcuff keys in my wallet.

It’s a damn good thing, too, because otherwise we would have had to call the police to that little kid’s party at the pizza place and that would have made for interesting explanations.

Shall I explain?

I had the joy of going to a kid’s birthday party at that particular pizza place that I loathe, not as much as that ONE place, but I still think loathe is the proper descripter. Nevertheless, it was my turn. My Honey had just been there on Saturday with our other kid. He at least had the luxury of knowing the other parents. I really despise going to birthday parties where I know absolutely no other parents. I hate making friends – primarily because I don’t like other people. The other thing is, if I’m nervous, I turn into a stand up comedienne and it’s agony to be inside my head when I can’t shut up like that.

After all the tokens had been spent and the tickets counted, the kids turned in their thousands of tickets that cost $75 in Mom-money for like $1.25 worth of plastic crap made in China. Incredibly, one of the kids got some handcuffs, actual metal handcuffs.

Of course, this child immediately put them on and promptly lost the key.

Panic ensued. Where, oh where, was the key? Tears flowed. Mom’s yelled. Other children laughed and pointed. One father thought he’d save the day and yank them apart ala The Hulk. No dice, of course. I sincerely doubt that particular father has had any gamma ray enhancements.

I was amused, I admit it. I mean really, who didn’t see this coming?

“Hey,” I interjected into the group of flustered parents and whining children – none of whom, I’d like to remind you, I knew AT ALL. “Let’s see if these will work.”

VOILA – the keys worked and the cuffs promptly relinquished its hold on the teary-eyed child.

Do you think I got a thank you? Of course I did, but now I just know they’re going to refer to me as That Joke Cracking Mom Who May or May Not Be A Criminal/Policeperson/Escape Artist/Kinky Sex Fiend.

So now I know you’re wondering, dear Internet, why do I have handcuff keys in my wallet.

One of these days, Ava, Kelli and I are going to get in some serious trouble and I’d really like to be prepared.

Do you believe me? Well, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

What’s the weirdest thing you carry around with you? Or what have you used to get out of handcuffs in the past? What do you keep around “just in case”?