DOMESTIC GODDESS, I AM NOT

Can of Worms? Opened, with a vengeance.

I found the first two pregnancy sticks from the donor cycle. The generic dollar brand, with the date of the tests written on them with a sharpie: 11/10 and 11/11. Guess where I had hidden them?

In the ironing board cabinet.

Now I’m starting to see just a bit of the humor behind my “logic” in hiding these things away. Places no one in our household would ever find them.

I remember when I took those tests.  I didn’t pee on them in the laundry room. That would be messy. Instead, like a “normal” person, I used them in the bathroom and then, to avoid being caught by my husband for testing waa-aaa-aaaay too early, I would take them into the laundry room to stare at them under full fluorescent lighting, heart in my throat.

I even marked each test with a little dot where I thought  I saw a second line. Even now, I can make out that line, still so incredibly faint that I was sure at the time I must have an optical malady that made me think  it was there.

After I blew the dust off the tests, guess what I did with them? Tucked them right back into the cabinet. One of these days, I’ll gather them all together (I still have the four 1st Response tests in my bathroom cabinet) in a container that will eventually be filled with all of ZGirl’s little treasures as she grows up.

I imagine her reaction when in a couple of decades as we are going through each object and telling her the story behind her first hat; the baptism candle; the home-from-the-hospital outfit; and finally the pee-soaked pregnancy tests.

Yeah, I’m sure the little smile she may have had on her face will be effectively replaced with a grimace, and maybe even a “gross!” uttered as she lets the test drop out of her hands.

Ah, the sweet memories yet to be made. *sighhhhh*