Maternity Leave Monday

36 Weeks

Finally, it's the day I've been day dreaming about since I first told my employer that I was was pregnant - my maternity leave has officially begun! No more getting up at the crack of dawn and fighting an hours worth of traffic all the way to work. No more staring at the clock on my computer and praying that 5 o'clock comes quickly. No more,no more, no more! Hurray!

Ah,the things I will do with my oodles of free time! Finish getting the nursery ready, give the house a really good cleaning, do some little craft projects for the baby's room, write more often in my blog - I have a list a mile long of things I've been wanting to do but haven't had the time for. Of course, I'm probably fooling myself by thinking that I'm going to get all of these things done before Rory makes his appearance. Part of my brain - obviously the more RATIONAL part - is just starting to realize that my free time is quickly starting to come to end and that in a few short weeks, my entire life is going to be consumed by a little person who requires my full attention 24 hours a day. Yikes!

At my last doctor's appointment on Friday, I was already 30% effaced, although I haven't started to dilate yet, and the doc thinks that it will only be another two to three weeks. TWO TO THREE WEEKS, PEOPLE! That's barely any time at all! I'm torn between being relieved that this pregnancy is almost over and being terrified that my life is about to change FOREVER...there's no stopping it now!

Pee, Pee and Pee Some More

I just thought the world should know, I've peed EIGHTEEN TIMES today - and it's only 3pm!

Ain't pregnancy great?

Graceful as a Hippo

I did an amazingly stupid and embarrassing thing today - I walked right into a locked bathroom stall door. HARD. The whole stall shook and the bathroom echoed with the loud OOOOMPH sound I made as my enormous belly hit the door. And to make matters worse, the stall was OCCUPIED! I must have scared that poor woman to death! I turned around and high-tailed it out of that bathroom faster than any waddling woman should be able to move so I could go hide at my desk. I didn't see who was in the stall - and hopefully, she didn't see me either! - But I'm sure she's got a good story to tell now, too!

I think I've officially entered into the clumsy, airhead phase of this pregnancy.

Lucky me.

Are You Ready for This Belly?

33 Weeks

Long, Long Days

I am having a major problem. I keep running out of things to do at work when there are still HOURS left in the day. Yes, I’ve been a good little worker bee and I’ve consistently asked my boss for more work, but she never seems to have anything extra for me to do. (I think she has insecurity issues and has a problem letting other people do things for her. If she wants to work twice as hard while I have nothing to do, well, that’s her choice, I guess!). I’ve tried to find things to keep myself busy – re-filing my papers, cleaning my desk, disinfecting my workstation, catching up on the news online, taking walks around the building – but you can only do these things so much before you start to go a little bit stir crazy.  And considering that my work has Web Sense so I can’t surf the internet, I quite literally have NOTHING TO DO for HOURS AT A TIME.  Do you know how long the days last when you’re staring at the clock? It’s pure TORTURE.  Right now it’s only 1pm on a Friday afternoon and I have four more hours stretching out in front of me until I can officially go home. FOUR LONG HOURS. 

 

HELP!!!!!

 

Sickness and Pregnancy Don't Mix

Week 31

In case anyone one has been wondering why I've fallen off the face of the Earth lately, it's because I have been sick. Not just a little sick, mind you, but full blown, knocked flat on my ass sick. What started out as a little cold ended up morphing into bronchitis and a sinus infection (at least that's the latest diagnosis) and when you're pregnant, there are very few medications that you can take. I'm coughing constantly, my eyes are watering like Niagra Falls, and I haven't been able to take a breath through my nose in over a week. Do I sound fun to be around or what?

Did I also mention that I was sick on New Year's Eve? How wrong is that? I had been all excited about a party that we were invited to - I had really wanted to whoop it up for our last New Year's "without children". But instead of getting dressed up and socializing with friends, I ended up in my pajamas watching the ball drop on TV through a mountain of dirty tissues. Sigh, it just ain't right.

Okay, that's all for my pity party. Hopefully next week will be better...

Christmas in Mariposa - Part One

Ah, Christmas Day.

It doesn't get much better than watching my little neice and nephew, Marin and Joaquin, open their Christmas presents...





Or eating all the delicious food that my in-laws cooked for all twenty of us without even batting an eyelash (yes, that was TWENTY!):



Or driving through Yosemite National Park on a beautiful winter's day:




Yup, life is GOOD.

A Taste of What's to Come

Saturday, my friend Holley and I headed out the door in the morning to have a "Girls Day Out" and to hit the stores one last time in search of Christmas presents. We knew the stores were going to be crowded, but we were really excited because someone had lent us their handicap parking placard, meaning that we could park RIGHT IN FRONT of almost any store we wanted. How COOL is that?! (I know this seems a little bit evil, but since my back DOES hurt like hell on a fairly regular basis, I was able to rationalize any guilty feelings I may have had and decided to just enjoy it.)

The first thing we did was hit the infamous McDonald's (you know, the one place I'm not allowed to go), and get a Fruit and Yogurt Parfait for breakfast. (I was proud of my fairly healthy choice, considering the other grease laden options available to me.) Then, we took deep breaths and charged into Target, the first store on our list, with fierce determination. It has just opened, but it was already filled to the brim with shoppers practically running each other over with carts full of Christmas crap. Ah, the Spirit of the Season! As I was waddling down one of the aisles trying to elbow my way into the toy section, I suddenly felt a sharp pain in my stomach.Hmmmm, I thought, that Fruit and Yogurt Parfait isn't agreeing with me. I guess that's my punishment for sneaking off to the evil Golden Arches.

Fast forward to 20 minutes later and I'm hunched over my shopping cart trying to breathe through the pain that's ripping through my abdomen. I was trying to act like nothing was wrong, but it was getting really hard and inside I was starting to freak out. I mean, what if I was in LABOR?! Dear God! I'm not ready for this yet! We don't even have a crib, or any baby clothes - I haven't even taken Lamaze class yet! I don't know how to BREATHE!!

I finally gave up on appearing to be calm and I sat down on the floor, right in the middle of the toy department. (And while I was down there trying to distract myself, I actually found some nifty gifts for Holley's nieces on the bottom shelf - go figure!) Once the pain had subsided enough for me to get up, we went through the checkout as quickly as possible (I couldn't let the shopping excursion be a TOTAL waste) and then, evil or not, thank goodness we were parked in the handicap spot close by! I called Hoby to let him know what was up and as soon as I got home, he got me out of the car and into bed, lecturing me all the while on the wickedness of McDonald's food and how it had probably made me go into labor. Uh, yeah, right. Thankfully, as soon as I was lying down, the pain started to go away.

And then, as quickly as it started, it was GONE. I was SO relieved! After calling a few people and reading some of my pregnancy books, we finally realized that I had just had my first run in with "False Labor". Somehow, I had never thought that Braxton Hicks contractions were painful - I just thought my stomach muscles would tighten up a few times and that would be the end of it. Shows what I know, eh? Let's just hope I don't have too many more of these "practice runs" - I was NOT enjoying myself one bit. And I know this is probably small potatoes compared to the real thing! If this is a taste of what's to come, then I'm not ashamed in the least to say that Mr. Epidural Man is going to become my new best friend!

Hoby made me spend the rest of the day with my feet up in bed. He went out and got some DVDs for us to watch and guess what he brought home? Super Size Me - a movie all about the evilness of McDonald's food. Ah, my husband, you've just gotta love him!

My Husband, The Cook

Since I've been pregnant, Hoby has been wonderful about cooking dinner.  He gets home before me most nights, so he usually has something ready by the time I walk in the door. And to a pregnant woman, walking in and being handed a hot meal at the end of a long day is as close to heaven as it gets. 

 

He wasn't always this eager to help out in the kitchen, however.  One night (before I was pregnant and when I was still doing most of the cooking), I knew that I was going to be late getting home, so I called Hoby and asked him to cook the chicken I had left defrosting in the fridge.  He told me that he wasn't sure how to prepare it, but I assured him that he had cooked chicken long before I ever came into the picture, so I was sure that he would think of something.

 

Well, about an hour later, I walk in the door completely starving and the first thing I notice is that I don't smell anything cooking. So I say to Hoby "What happened to the chicken?", and he says,  "Well, how about we go to McDonalds instead?"  (Side note: I'm ashamed to admit it, but I LOVE McDonald's Filet-O-Fish sandwiches and Hoby hates it when I eat McDonalds, so for him to say this was a BIG deal.) So of course, I jump at the chance and off we go.

 

Once we get there, I run up to the counter to order my precious Filet-O-Fish sandwich before he can change his mind, and when I'm finished, I turn to him and say "So what are you having?" and he says, "Nothing, I made myself a chicken sandwich at the house." 

 

Uh, WHAT???? YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!

 

Yes, folks, it's true. He managed to make himself a chicken sandwich but somehow couldn't manage to make me dinner, too.  I spent about 5 minutes trying to explain why this was just plain WRONG, and then, well, at least I got a Filet-O-Fish sandwich out of it! 

 

I like the way he is now MUCH better. (I love ya, honey!)

 

 

The King of Gift Givers

My brother, Jeremy, is the most generous gift giver in the WHOLE WORLD. For our wedding gift last year he gave us Tivo with a life time subscription - and my God, people, how did we ever live before we had Tivo in our house?! Now, for Chrismukkah (we're an interfaith family, in case you didn't know), he gave us a freakin' DIGITAL CAMERA! Does this guy RULE or what?! We love you, Jeremy!

So here is our very first attempt to share our pictures with the blogging world:



How stoked are we?!

A New Definition of Enjoyment

Week 27

After a few weeks of being worried for no reason (one of my specialties), we got the results back from my Gestational Diabetes test and they were normal. THANK GOD. Being pregnant is enough trouble already without having to go on a special diet and check my blood every few hours, don't you think? I can't even imagine!

Someone actually asked me the other day how I was enjoying my pregnancy. ENJOYING? Did they say ENJOYING? HA! Am I ENJOYING having my body completely out of my control and having to pee every half hour? Am I ENJOYING the exhaustion, the constant back aches, the waddle that is becoming more pronounced every day, and the inability to tie my own shoes? I DON'T THINK SO. I know there are some women out there who love being pregnant, but I think I've gotten over the fact that I am NOT one of them.

However, there are moments like right now when I can feel Rory moving around in there and I think to myself, isn't that AMAZING?! There's actually a baby in there. A baby that Hoby and I made, kicking his cute little baby feet! How extraordinary is that? And then, my friends, it's all worth it.

You Go, Grandpa!

If you were to look up "Jewish Grandpa" in the dictionary, there would no doubt be a picture of my Grandpa Greene in there. Imagine a bald, barrel-chested old man in a wife beater with plaid pants from the 60's pulled up practically to his chin, then top it off with a hairy chest and gold chains around the neck. No that's not an exaggeration, that's my Gramps in all his glory!

He's actually a pretty amazing guy for his age. Although he's in his 90's, he still does 75 push ups and heads out on a long walk every day. He's very independent - as a matter of fact, he's on a cruise to the Hawaiin islands right now ALL BY HIMSELF. I'm actually a bit worried about him considering the fact that he can't hear very well (actually, to be frank, he's almost completely deaf) so I'm wondering if he's able to communicate with anyone onboard the ship. Not only is he deaf, but he's also got a really short temper - I'm sure that someone on that ship is going to feel the wrath of Grandpa at some point during the trip. Probably some poor waiter who doesn't bring his food fast enough. Gramps can get violent if he doesn't get his food. He may be in his 90's, but he's been known to shove people out of his way in buffet lines because they were taking too long. I kid you not.

My Grandpa knows that he can't hear, but sometimes I think that he likes to pretend that he does. Once when I was flying into Florida (the Jewish Grandparent Mecca of the World), my flight got delayed, so I tried calling my grandparents on a pay phone to tell them that I'd be late. But instead of my Grandma answering (which would make sense since she COULD hear), my Grandpa answers the phone. I yell "Hello!" and I hear him say "Hello? Hello?" Then he says "I don't hear anybody there." and he hangs up! Well, of course you can't hear anybody there, Grandpa, because you're deaf! So I call back and AGAIN my Grandpa answers, so I'm standing in the middle of this crowded airport yelling into a pay phone at the top of my lungs, "GRANDPA - PUT GRANDMA ON THE PHONE!". He STILL can't hear me and as he's hanging up on me I hear him yelling "Damn kids playin' tricks on me!" Ugh. Needless to say, they were very worried when I showed up several hours later than expected and my Grandpa was upset that I hadn't called to tell him about my plane being delayed. Sighhhh...I didn't have the heart to explain it to him.

Anyways, here's to you, Gramps! Enjoy cruisin' the Hawaiin islands. May your plate be filled in a timely manner and your temper be on vacation!

Ain't Technology Great?!

My work has this horrible little thing called Web Sense on all of our computers that blocks almost every interesting website on earth.  Not only can I not check my AOL email or cruise the internet during my work day (how dare they take away my right to procrastinate and be totally unproductive!), but I also have been unable to update my blog from work. It's really been quite detrimental to keeping up an active social life while on the job. Tsk, tsk. However, I recently have found a new way to outsmart the evil Web Sense! Yea me! I have just figured out how to update my blog via email, which Web Sense is thankfully unable to sensor (for right now, at least). So now I can subject you to my ramblings on a more regular basis. Lucky you!

Hypocrite

I'm driving down the 101 freeway the other day and I end up stuck in traffic behind this enormous SUV. Its bumper is covered in stickers, and since there isn't a lot of other things to look when you're stuck in Oxnard going two miles per hour, I started to read them. "Save the Planet", "Love Mother Earth", and "Save Our Natural Resources", just to name a few. I'm all for protecting the environment, but I hate to break it to ya, buddy, you're driving a gas guzzling SUV! What a hypocrite! People just don't get it sometimes, do they?

Pregnancy Has Gone to My Head

Friday night we were having dinner at Hoby's aunt and uncle's house. I
was meeting him there after work, and even though I've been there
several times, I wasn't totally sure how to get there, so I asked
for directions. The directions were easy enough - get off at
the Kimbal exit and take a left, take a right at the first stop light on
Coltran, then another right on Baker. Okay, not too hard. So I'm
driving along, following the directions, but when I turn right at the
first stop light, the road dead ends at a school. And I'm like, hey,
this can't be right! So I turn around and back track a bit, but I can't
find Coltran ANYWHERE. I try calling Hoby on his cell phone, but for
once in his life, he actually turned the darn thing off and I can't get
through. I continue to drive around, hoping that I'll eventually find
the elusive Coltran, but after 15 minutes and at least 5 u-turns, I
realize that I need help.

I finally call in an SOS to my sister-in-law, Jackie, and explain my driving dilemma. Of course, she asks me for a landmark to help her figure out where I am, so I say that I'm on Kimbal, and that I just passed the Government Center. "The Government Center?" she says, "There's no Government Center on Kimbal! You're on Victoria, silly!" I had gotten off one exit too soon without even realizing it - and let me tell you, it's not like I've never gotten off at either of these exits before - I'm use them all the time! Boy, did I feel like a complete IDIOT. But at least I can chalk this up to being pregnant, right?

Just nod yes and make me feel better, okay?

Make Way for the Waddle

23 Weeks

I went for another ultrasound today because the baby still hasn't been moving very much (at least not that I can feel) and we just wanted to make sure that everything was A-OK. This was the first time I'd ever had an ultrasound in the morning - usually I have them in the late afternoon and I think the little guy has always been taking a nap. Well, he was wide awake this morning! He was movin' all over the place - waving his arms and kicking his tiny feet. (Have I mentioned how darn cute his little feet are?!) The funny thing is that I STILL can't feel it, even when I can SEE him giving me a good swift kick in the ribs. I suppose I should be grateful for my overly large placenta and the fact that it is absorbing all of his attempts to kick the living day lights out of my uterus. In a few weeks I have no doubt that I will be wishing for the days that I was blissfully unaware of his movements.

Speaking of movement, I've been horrified lately with this pregnant waddle that I have suddenly acquired. How on earth did that happen? I always swore to myself that I would not be one of those waddling women, I mean weren't they just being lazy? Couldn't they stop themselves if they REALLY wanted to? Well, unfortunately, I've now learned that the answer is a big resounding NO. I CAN'T HELP IT. These hips of mine have a mind of their own and they are quite the force to be reckoned with. I practically leave dents in the walls of the hallway at work as I waddle my way across the building. So if you happen to find yourself walking next to me, well, YOU'VE BEEN WARNED.

Satan in Carl's Jr.

A friend and I had just finished having a nice peaceful lunch at Carl's Jr. today and were sitting at our table chatting when suddenly an older lady with really big hair and equally big glasses marches over to our table and rudely asks "Are you just going to sit here and gab all day or are you going to move it so I can have your table?". WHAT?! Did she really just say that? I was so stunned I couldn't even speak for a second (and if you know me, that's no small feat!) - I think I just had my mouth open in shock. My friend Gail, who also looked a bit rattled, looked around and said as politely as she could manage "We will be here for another 15-20 minutes or so, but there are plenty of other tables available." So the woman snaps at her "I want a BOOTH, not some grungy table. Now just hurry up and leave!"

Now, I could see that Gail, who is a former policewoman and is also known as Gail the Gun Lady (see my past post) was turning red and getting ready to explode at the lady (which would have been kinda fun to watch, but probably not such a good idea), so I quickly said "Look, I'm sorry, but we're not finished. If you're still waiting for a table when we're done, I'll come and find you. " Well, apparently this wasn't good enough for the queen of bitchiness. She made a big stink and then proceeded stand two feet away and glare at us for the remainder of our lunch. Talk about unsettling! Gail and I were totally uncomfortable but we refused to give in and leave until we were good and ready. Once we had waited long enough and the woman looked about ready to have a nuclear meltdown, we stood up to leave. Before I could even get my big pregnant butt out of the booth she was swooping in to grab the table, practically knocking me down in the process. I've never seen anything like it! And all for a stupid booth by the window that overlooked the FREEWAY, for goodness sake! What is this world coming to?

A Birthday Gift

21 Weeks

I know it's been forever since I last blogged, but since I can't blog at work anymore, it's not easy to find the time to sit down and start typing. I've been flattered though by the number of people who have asked me why I haven't updated my blog in awhile - I guess that means people are actually reading this!

Things have been going fairly well with my pregnancy lately. I think I finally hit the "honeymoon period" eveyone kept telling me about that I never thought would actually happen to me. The only thing that was worrying me was the fact that I hadn't felt the baby move yet. Perhaps I'm just being a panicky first-time mom (and if I am, well, too bad!), but everything I've read said that I should be feeling wuite a bit of movement by now and I hadn't felt even the tiniest flutter. So I called the doctor about it and she had me come in for an ultrasound. Turns out that the placenta is positioned in such a way that it's absorbing all of the motion, which explains why I haven't felt anything yet. However, I was at my parents house the other night getting ready to go out to dinner for my 29th birthday and lo and behold, I finally felt something! It like a small TAP TAP in my tummy, and it happened again a few minutes later. I was so excited! I can finally FEEL that there is a baby in there rather than just waiting to see ultrasound picture every few weeks when I go to the doctor. I felt it again last night at around the same time, so perhaps he's starting to get on a bit of a schedule. How cool is that?!

Oh, did I mention that we found out we're having a BOY? Truth be told, I was a bit shocked to find out it was a boy. Okay, I'm lying. I was VERY shocked. I almost feel off the examining table when the doctor told us. I had been so sure it was a girl... I guess that shows you how well my mother's intuition is working at this stage, eh? Hoby was estatic, of course, but it's taken me quite a while to get used to the idea of it. I always imagined myself with a daughter, you know, dressing her up in cute little clothes, putting her hair up in pig-tails, doing the mother-daughter bonding thing- that sort of stuff. I'm not really sure what to do with a baby boy. I guess I'll figure it out soon enough, won't I?

Another big thing that happened is that we traded in the VW Bug (otherwise known as the "Slut Bug") for a brand new Honda CRV. It was a little sad to give away my little red buggie mobile - it kinda felt like I was handing over the keys to my younger, wilder days, but the CRV is so much fun to drive that I got over it pretty quickly. Now I'm eye to eye with all of the trucks and SUVs on the road who were always trying to cut me off in my low riding Bug - so look out drivers on the 101, here I come with a vengence! Yes, it may be a "family car" but it's a darn cool one, if I do say so myself. So if you see me driving by in my new wheels, be sure and honk hello!

$$

17 Weeks –

I had to go into Babies R Us yesterday in order to buy a baby shower gift for a friend as I have many times before in the past. However, this time, as I looked over the giant list of things she had registered for, it began to dawn on me. I, too, am having a baby – and babies need things. LOTS OF THINGS. Diapers, cribs, strollers, bottles, high chairs, swings, bedding, special soaps, powders, little clothes… the list goes on and on and on! It’s mind boggling! How are we going to buy all of these things? (And not only that, where are we going to PUT all of these things in our tiny two bedroom house that’s already at its bursting point?) I had to quickly buy something and run out of the store before I melted into a quivering puddle of panic in the middle of a Graco stroller display.

Have I mentioned that we also need to buy a new car before the baby is born? Otherwise we’ll be taking our newborn home from the hospital strapped to the roof of my VW Bug and I doubt that will win us any parenting points. And to think that we eventually want to buy a house, too? In CALIFORNIA! HA! Where on earth will all this money come from? As my father always said, money doesn’t grow on trees (even though I’ve fervently begun to pray that it will). Everything I think about now as far as the baby is concerned has dollar signs attached to it and to be quite honest, it’s really starting to FREAK ME OUT.

Why Women Take So Long in Public Restrooms

My mother emailed me this story and I thought it was so funny that I just had to share:

My mother was a fanatic about public bathrooms. When I was a little girl, she'd take me into the stall, teach me to wad up toilet paper and wipe the seat. Then, she'd carefully lay strips of toilet paper to cover the seat.

Finally, she'd instruct, "Never, NEVER sit on a public toilet seat. Then she'd demonstrate "The Stance," which consisted of balancing over the toilet in a sitting position without actually letting any of your flesh make contact with the toilet seat.

By this time, I'd have wet down my leg and we'd have to go home to change my clothes. That was a long time ago. Even now, in my more "mature years, "The Stance" is excruciatingly difficult to maintain,especially when one's bladder is full.

When you have to "go" in a public bathroom, you usually find a line of women that makes you think there's a half-price sale on Bloomingdale's underwear in there. So, you wait and smile
politely at all the other ladies,who are also crossing their legs and smiling politely. You get closer and check for feet under the stall doors. Every one is occupied.

Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall. You get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn't matter. The dispenser for the new fangled "seat covers" (invented by someone's Mom, no doubt) is handy, but empty. You would hang your purse on the door hook if there was one but there isn't - so you carefully but quickly hang it around your neck (mom would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR!), yank down your pants, and assume "The Stance."

Ahhhh, relief. More relief.

But then your thighs begin to shake. You'd love to sit down but you certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold "The Stance" as your thighs experience a quake that would register an eight on the Richter scale. To take your mind off of your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser. In your mind, you can hear your mother's voice saying, "Honey, if you would have tried to clean the seat, you would have KNOWN there was no toilet paper!"

Your thighs shake more. You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday - the one that's still in your purse. That would have to do. You crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It is still smaller than your thumbnail.

Someone pushes open your stall door because the latch doesn't work. The door hits your purse, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest, and you and your purse topple backward against the tank of the toilet.

"Occupied!" you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle, and sliding down, directly onto the insidious toilet seat. You bolt up quickly, knowing all too well that it's too late. Your bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ and life form on the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper-not that there was any, even if you had taken time to try. You know that your mother would be utterly ashamed of you if she knew, because you're certain that her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, dear, "You just don't KNOW what kind of diseases you could get."

By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, sending up a stream of water akin to a fountain that suddenly sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged off to China.

At that point, you give up. You're soaked by the splashing water. You're exhausted. You try to wipe with a gum wrapper you found in your pocket, then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks.

You can't figure out how to operate the faucets with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past a line of women, still waiting, cross-legged and, at this point, no longer able to smile politely.

One kind soul at the very end of the line points out that you are trailing a piece of toilet paper on your shoe as long as the Mississippi River! (Where was it when you NEEDED it??) You yank the
paper from your shoe, plunk it the woman's hand and tell her warmly, "Here, you just might need this."

As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has since entered, used and exited the men's restroom and read a copy of War and Peace while waiting for you. Annoyed, he asks, "What took you so long, and why is your purse hanging around your neck?".....

This is dedicated to women everywhere who have ever had to deal with a public restroo (rest??? you've got to be kidding!!). It finally explains to the men what really does take us so long. It also answers their other commonly asked question about why women go to the restroom in pairs. It's so the other woman can hold the broken door and hand you Kleenex under the stall.