Scrolling Saturdays is the brainchild of Melissa and Coleen. The idea is to bring back a post from your archives and repost it. This place hasn’t been around for too long so it wasn’t very difficult. 
Here it is:
When I was just a tiny little amanda, I saw my cousins with these plastic over-glorified make-up holders which they called, “caboodles”. As if the hot pink chest that held the key to a grown-up face (and Glamour Shots too) was not interesting enough, it had such a cute, little snazzy name. Caboodle. It’s fun to say.
Way to go Caboodle marketers! You won over my young heart.
I begged like a jonesin’ junky for a caboodle. Begged and begged and begged. I harassed my mother daily. Probably, nightly too. I was crazy for one. The appeal was endless. They came in snazzy colors, some had heart-shaped snaps that closed them.
So, I groveled.
Lo and behold, my mother eventually gave in and purchased a caboodle for me. After all, it was a tiny organization system. If you involve the word ‘organization’ in a product, my mother is sold. She is all about organizaiton.
After picking out a hot pink caboodle, I filled it with old make-up my mother had discarded. The classic Cover Girl pressed powder in the deep brown compact was a major component of the caboodle. It was accompanied by the reigning dried up Great Lash mascara in the flamingo pink tube with the green lid. I was cool.
Yet, there was one component responsible for holding my caboodle items together, the major item that made them seemingly more 80’s as a whole–-an empty can of Aqua Net. That’s right. Aqua Net. The tragic 88-cent answer to all your hair problems. You could tease that unibang as high as you wanted. At least.. I could because my caboodle..also held a pick. Yep, a pick.
Now, I’m not really sure what happened to my caboodle or the assemblage of crap held inside. I’m sure I discarded it in the manor of the average five year old when I was tired of it. I probably left it in my closet, or maybe I gave it away. Who knows?
Probably, my mother. She always knows. (I’m sure it is in her attic.)
Anyway, I saw a picture of a caboodle today and remembered mine. I also remembered how insanely awesome I thought I was toting my hot pink caboodle around by it’s handle. But when the caboodle reminiscing lead to Milli Vanilli reminiscing…I just stopped altogether and decided to do some dishes.
A girl can only handle so much.
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