Pregnancy tests are expensive, and I am getting fat.

Convinced I was pregnant , I walked into the grocery store with one kid on my hip, and the other two holding hands trailing along. I had one thing to buy and one thing only. As we passed the Oreo’s tiny hands grabbed at them like a bat out of hell, but I pressed on. I needed that box.

Off brand it is, because if I am not pregnant I am going to be pissed I spent $25 on two tests. And if I am pregnant, I need to apply for a job at this store stocking pregnancy tests I guess, as to make me celibate. Teaching me a lesson, so to speak.

As if buying a pregnancy test with 56 children following behind you isn’t embarrassing enough, they have to shield it like it’s an atomic bomb in this plastic casing.

” Excuse me sir, are you allowed to open this for me?”

” Nah, just take it up to the front, they open it for you.”

I needed a large stretcher to place this big ass box on, so I called for customer service. After being told I couldn’t have assistance carrying the 50 Lb. box to the front in shame, my 4 year old daughter insisted that she wanted to carry it.

Great, that looks wonderful. Kids these days.

I made it up to the front with no major anxiety attack. As soon as I placed the large box that screamed of my sexual happenings with my husband, the cashier smiled. She smiled way too big. Just let me pay for this, and please don’t ask me….. Oh please don’t …..

” AH! I see you might be SPECTIN’. My God what will that be for YA, 4? MAN! “

Then she put down the commercial sized megaphone she was speaking into as I smiled and asked my cute two year old to tell her hello. I was killing her slowly in my mind with a large ice pick, that way no one would know it was me. The murder weapon would melt. 

The other cashiers seemed to be taking a poll of my future. Writing down their votes vigorously, they began holding up signs that read:

” I VOTE NOT PREGNANT!”

” KEEP YOUR LEGS CLOSED!”

” I THINK IT’S A GIRL!”

” DO YOU KNOW WHO THE FATHER IS?”

The list went on as I stood there feeling the need to defend myself. I am a MARRIED WOMAN people, and if I am knocked up that’s my deal.

I paid for the darn test, all my life savings came to an end.

” Do you have you MVP card dear?”

” Um yes, hang on. It’s in my wallet right next to my spare condoms.”

See, I’m responsible?

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I am also not pregnant. It just turns out that I can no longer stay up until 1 am eating doughnuts and drinking wine. Finally at age 27 I need to start doing crunches to maintain my 12 year old figure.  Not everyone can wear Limited too jeans, and look 5 months pregnant.

I am not pregnant, just getting chubby. 

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