Families and family bags

Packing for a long trip is always stressful. Starting from indispensable parts of the wardrobe, extending to pure narcissistic indulgences, suitcases are stuffed like fat pigs. Add to that, a veritable library full of books, which titles like "simplified Physics" (the general theory is that, the more innocent looking the title, thicker the book). To aid in our efforts of 'organizing' the plethora of trousers, shirts, t-shirts, books, copies, two volumes of spiral-bound thesis, and other items of dubious usefulness, my mother decided to employ a bag of considerable vintage.

Dragging it out of whatever corner it had retreated to was difficult enough, but the moment it emerged from its hiding place, i was immediately reminded of a bag, which has been made famous through most Jack-the-Ripper movies. It was sinisterly similar to the bag carried by the good doctor who made a hobby of killing prostitutes.

Witnessing the bag being opened one would expect sharp instruments with crusted blood to spill out, accompanied by jars of preserved genitalia. Unfortunately, this did not happen and nothing more scary than a few spiders creeped out.

Every family has skeletons in its closets and lofts, back-stabbings, feuds and whatnot, my family appears to have cultivated a taste for conspiratorial looking bags. It is doubtful, that any of the members happened to have a fetish for ripped out organs, still one can hope.

I think the purpose of the family lies in the fact they provide u with excellent stories for conversation, my family appears to be excellent material for blog-posts, or at least their taste in bags is.