This is Olivia when she was about 3 with her pink handbag. (Oh she's my lovely niece, did I tell you?) (Photo taken with my plastic toy Holga camera.)
My nephew, Harry (6), wanted to play machine guns in the trenches with his little sister; Olivia (3), just wanted to play princesses with Harry. It was a predicament.
It didn’t stop Olivia. She went fearlessly into battle but here’s the thing: in the middle of the machine gun fire—down there in the trenches with Harry—knee deep in all that mud—there she was, carrying her pink handbag.
Clearly—even in no-man’s land—Olivia would not be seen dead without her handbag.
But what to put in a handbag that goes with you into battle?
For that I approached the expert. "Olivia," I asked. "What do you keep your handbag?" She looked up at me as if I was the most foolish aunt any child could possibly have--and said, "My friends."
Of course. Do children have to explain EVERYTHING to grown ups? I think so. Probably. Sorry.
She then proceeded to pull out of her handbag: a plastic carrot, a furry bear, a tiny doll with one arm and bad hair, a strange knitted creature, a teapot and a purple troll.
But anyway, that's how Handbag Friends began. And it's for Oliva (and her pink handbag) that I wrote it.
Wait. Isn't it? shouldn't we? what about?
I think so.
Let's sing The Handbag Song! (You know you want to.)
