This morning, there was Christmas music on the radio.  Now, it’s not time for the non-stop Christmas music (or, as it is also known, Sarah’s Season), but the frost on my windshield combined with Burl Ives made me crave a pumpkin spice latte from Starbucks.  I made a special trip.  It IS Friday, after all.

Well.. I don’t typically have caffeine in the morning.  I typically have juice and water.  My bowels were not prepared.

When my hands started swelling, I went and got 36 oz of water and chugged it.  And then my bowels were REALLY screaming.

I was so excited when I entered the bathroom and nary a soul was in there.  So I took the usual “poop stall”.. you know, the one furthest from the door and in a corner.. and began.

I heard the door open and SURE ENOUGH, someone took the stall RIGHT NEXT DOOR TO ME.  Who DOES that?  There are twelve stalls in this bathroom, and you pick the one next to me?  Seriously?  There is the unspoken rule of skipping a stall.  Or hell, pick one on the other side altogether.  But noooo..

Well, SUCKED to be her, lemme tell you.

Me (whining, per usual): I’m so TIRED of being pregnant, Bryan..

Bryan: Well, I know a way we can get that started.. (starts humming the porno theme, “Bow Chicka Wow Wow”)

Me, ignoring him: Yeah, what’s the name of that herb again?  The one you take to start contractions?

Bryan, deadpan: Hemlock, I believe.

This sickens me.  Seriously.  We sent them over there.  And this is what we do to help them adjust back home.