Finley Files: Security Purse

Dear Finley,

Sometimes you act/dress/look more like someone almost 80, not someone almost 2.

You have a purse that you carry with you at all possible times. When I try to take it away, you scream. When I try to analyze its contents, you scream. And to be fair, I should know better than to try to separate a lady and her handbag.
But last night when you were asleep... We dumped out your purse to take a peek...

Necklaces (because you're like a pirate)
Your psychic talking meatball (obviously)
Two binkies (because you've gotta have a spare)
A toy lizard (for company)
Your cell phone (needs to be charged, by the way)
Your cup (for Starbucks refills on the go)
Your mini toy organ (because sometimes a girl needs to jam out to a 60s rock organ riff)

I just can't even tell you how precious you are to me and how much I love you.

Love, Mama