The other day I went to a robbery call at 8:45AM at a small apartment complex on the south side of the city. When I arrived, there were two officers already speaking to the victim.
It was hot already, so we moved under a tree for some shade. That’s when the officer asked, “What was taken?”
The woman, who was in her mid-40s, said, “My coboodle box.”
Her caboodle what?
There was a moment of silence as all three of us looked at each other. Obviously we didn’t know what she was talking about.
“What is that?” Asked the officer.
“It’s a caboodle box,” she said. When we didn’t answer she looked at us in disbelief. “You guys don’t know what that is?”
All three of us shook out heads.
“It’s my stripper box,” she said.
That’s when I took my phone out and said, “I’m going to Google it.”
I did my search and found what I was looking for. I clicked on “images” and turned my phone toward the woman and asked if that was what she was taking about.
“That’s it, except mine is decorated,” she proudly said. “I’ve had my caboodle box for 23 years.”
Wow, I bet her box has a lot of stories to tell.