Chip and I went to see a movie today at the new local cineplex. While he stood in line for popcorn and drinks I went looking for the bathroom.

Since I'm basking in the nuances of this whole pregnancy experience, anything that hints of motherhood shows up rather quickly on my radar. So, when I walked into the brand-new restroom and saw the shiny, stainless-steel urinal, I thought it was quite thoughtful of the cinema's designers to include it for all the moms taking their little boys to the bathroom.

Just a nanosecond later my rational, normal neurons fired and I realized I was not standing in the middle of a women's restroom designed by a thoughtful architect, but was standing in a regular men's room designed by a regular architect who obviously wasn't suffering from pregnancy-related dementia when the plans were drawn.

Thank goodness I was able to get out of the men's room and into the right bathroom without anyone but me knowing of my blunder.