Fess Up Friday: Wherein I Gross You Out and Possibly Make You Sad for Me

Okay, I am digging deep down to find my last scrap of energy so I can fess up to y'all tonight because I haven't blogged in a week, and that is just SAD.

So, last night I was at Target buying diapers, and I was using the restroom. I have a bladder the size of a walnut, so this isn't surprising. What IS surprising is that after nearly two years (insert cutsey phrase of choice to indicate that I started my period, but if you use the words "visitor" or "Aunt Flo" I will stab you in the face).

ANYWAY, I opened the shiny, metal trash receptacle to insert my feminine hygiene product of choice, and I saw a very familiar sight. I saw a discarded pregnancy test. Back in my heyday of trying to conceive, I was known to test in public bathrooms because I had just purchased a test, and I was SO SURE it would be positive this time, I just had to find out right away because how awesome would it be walk out of the restroom, meet Chris's annoyed countenance at yet another lengthy restroom trip with a "Surprise! We're pregnant! And don't you feel like a jackass for being so impatient?"

Long story short, I had to know if this test was positive or negative. I had so many scenarios floating through my head: a scared teenage girl hoping and praying that broken condom wasn't about to cost her her youth. A woman who had been coveting conception for months, maybe years, and was hoping to surprise HER husband upon leaving the restroom. Maybe a mother of four or five, who felt the all-too-familiar tenderness of breasts while cruising the diaper aisle, and, on a hunch, decided to take a test before returning to her brood.

I needed a conclusion for all these stories. Unfortunately, the test was face down. Somehow this made sense to me. Even though no one would know to whom the test belonged, I can understand why hiding that plus or minus from prying eyes would seem like the thing to do. But, mystery lady's privacy be damned, I was picking up that test to see the result!

Okay, be grossed out. But, I washed my hands after, and if you don't think you are touching someone else's pee every time you use a public restroom, you are kidding yourself, my friend.

Guess what? It was positive! That is either really awesome or really devastating news, but for some reason, I was relieved.

So, yeah. That's my confession. I'm nosy, and I have nothing better to do than dream up pregnancy scare scenarios in the bathroom of a Target.

Oh, and that I totally touched someone's pee. Because, let's face it, no matter how hard you try not to, you ALWAYS get some pee on the handle.