My bladder and I have, after many years of conflict, come to an agreement. I expect it to work properly and it....well, it laughs at me and pretty much does what it pleases. Payback for having two boys who treated it like a soccer ball while I was prego, I guess.
It taunts me.
It has the absolute worst sense of timing.
It is not what it used to be and it wasn't that stellar to begin with.
All of this goes trotting through my brain as I'm frantically trying to lug 30+ pounds of baby and carseat into the house after a non-stop morning of errands. I'm fairly certain that I heard it cackle at me as I went tripping down the hallway towards blessed relief.
Did I make it?
Did my bladder make a mockery of me?
*sigh* I'm not telling.
