You know it’s going to be a hot date when it begins at Babies ‘R Us.
About a week ago I informed Roomie that I would be taking her on a date. I told her to keep this past Saturday night open even though, hello, who else would she be with since I won’t leave her side until Wee Little Fetus arrives?
We got dressed up and it pains me to admit that Roomie looked far better than I did. I’m sorry, but it just isn’t right for a 8.5 month pregnant woman to look hotter than an, um, non-pregnant woman. It’s just wrong, ya’ll / y’all.
(Still haven’t made up my mind yet.)
(GIVE ME TIME, YA’LL / Y’ALL.)
We began date night with a trip to the local Sonic (FANCY, NO?) for a couple of slushes (grape for me, watermelon for Roomie). We needed some kind of fuel for part one of date night and slush just screams protein, you know.
We drove to the Babies ‘R Us store in Chattanooga, which was a pretty big move on my part considering how emotionally traumatizing my last trip there turned out to be. We had Important Things To Do, however. We had made a list of everything left that we needed for Wee Little Fetus and were determined to get everything bought, washed and put away this weekend thanks to some lovely gift cards we received.
After spending way too much time looking at crib sheets, we headed to dinner at our favorite restaurant, Texas Roadhouse. Sure, we’re not from Texas and haven’t even really spent that much time there, but we do love their Roadhouse. We did not love it, however, when the waitresses suddenly broke out into a choreographed dance, but mainly just ’cause we didn’t know the dance ourselves making it difficult for us to join in.
Oh, I kid. I don’t dance in public unless there are sequins involved.
After dinner, I asked Roomie if we could run in Hobby Lobby (not the same one from last week, by the way). After a few minutes of looking through baby room decor, I informed Roomie that I had to go to the bathroom — like, right then.
Off I went, through that gigantic store, until I finally found the bathroom. By this point, I had to go to the bathroom so I was walking rather quickly. I threw open the door to the bathroom, smiled at the teenage boy standing at the sink, and found myself a stall.
And that’s when I realized that there was a teenage boy in the women’s restroom.
And then, five seconds later, I realized that the urinals I had passed on the way in may have indicated that I was in the men’s restroom.
And then, about eight seconds later, I opened the stall door in shame and walked out of the men’s restroom while trying to avoid locking eyes with said teenage boy at the sink.
And yes, Roomie laughed. Quite a bit.
Especially when I did it again at Target the following day.
When you’re a girl on a mission, sometimes that little stick figure man can look like it’s wearing a dress.
I swear!
Um…how traumatic…for that boy. =/
hmmmmmm….lalalalalalalalalala…oh wait, you’re back with another post…listen chicky poo…when you got to go, men’s bathroom, women’s bathroom…as long as it has a door, it’s all good…
Tee hee hee – I’ve done that a time or two.
Can’t…. type… laughing… too… hard……
Remind me to tell you my own Target men’s room story…
The fruit doesn’t fall far from the tree!
Oh my goodness. Too funny. And the comment from your mom? I just made me laugh all over again!
Maybe Roomie’ll just laugh that baby right outta her if you keep this up!
And I love Texas Roadhouse, too!
That. was. too. funny!!! I am so glad that you have no shame:)
Oh I tease, but it still was really funny!!!
That is so funny! The look on that boy’s face must have been priceless!
Keep up the laughter for Roomie – isn’t there an old wives tale that laughing moves along labor? Not sure, but you never know if it could help things progress.
It okay… Sometimes you need to have that kind of courage on purpose. Ever been to a ball game where you spend a third of the game in line? Sometimes, it’s worth running in to the “other” stall.. I am just saying
Wow! AB… wouldn’t it be interesting if that boy (in the bathroom) blogged?
I am glad the boy was at the SINK!
Okay, since you are still undecided, here is the scoop on the Y’all thing. (and no I am not the blogger who originally informed AB of the error) The apostrophe in a contraction stands in place of the letters that have been omitted. Since Y’all stands for “you all” and the apostrophe goes after the y in place of the ou. Now, I understand if you are just sentimentally attached to spelling it the other way. At least now you are fully informed and can make an educated decision. You probably were already fully informed, so in that case, now I feel better after getting that off my chest.
Melissa: You are right, it is correctly spelled “Y’all”. BUT we ARE in the SOUTH…whoo spelz thingz rite down heer? No won. I say it should be “Ya’ll”
AB: I have done that at a CHURCH…a very LARGE church none-the-less …but only on account of someone switching the signs.
I say y’all= you all and ya’ll= ya all. Either way the apostrophe stands in for missing letters.
Oh too funny! Did you actually get all the things you wanted at the Baby store?
oh gosh. i have never done that but i have a serious huge fear that it will happen one day. also, when i’m locking up the rooms we’ve used after a night at church, i always have to open up the guys’ bathroom to turn the light off…my heart stops every time. luckily the light switch is right inside the door so i close my eyes and just stick my hand in!
pretty soon you’ll both be escorted by a (tiny) boy on all your hot dates!! SO FUN!
Hilarious.
Even more hilarious that it happened twice.
And it’s y’all. Not ya’ll.
Even though spell check doesn’t recognize either of them.
Due to laws of contractions, it’s y’all.
You’re a hoot, and I still stand by my earlier compromise of doing away with the apostrophe and going with yall like fall.
[...] me this: why, on a regular basis, do I find myself accidentally walking into men’s restrooms in various businesses, churches [...]