Mom Sexy Fridays: Peeing In a Cup Just Ain’t Mom Sexy

As hard as I try to be as Mom Sexy as possible during any given day of my 34-year old life, I’m finally accepting the fact that there are some instances that just really aren’t conducive to being a MILF.

Examples of such instances include hangovers, bouts of food poisoning that were most likely obtained from eating shitty salmon skewers at a hotel lounge (blech!), and of course, the highly anticipated trip us gals make to the OBGYN each year.

Face it ladies…peeing in a cup just ain’t Mom Sexy.

I had the pleasure of going in for my “well-woman” exam earlier this week, and I couldn’t help but feel like I lost my sexy somewhere between stepping on the damn doctor’s scale (which is ALWAYS 5-pounds heavier than my bathroom scale), and nodding my head at the nurse after she asked me to provide a urine sample, write my name on the cup with a marker, and then put it into that little secret door in the wall. (Who the hell is hiding on the other end of that door anyway)?

Here’s a brief play-by-play of what went down after the nurse shut the door to the bathroom and said she’d wait outside for me to finish:

For a good thirty seconds, I tried unsuccessfully to lay toilet paper down on the toilet seat so that I could sit down and piss into that plastic cup without worrying about whose nasty potentially STD filled ass was sitting there before me. (Other people’s butt cheeks totally freak me out).

I finally got it laid on the seat decent enough for my liking, so I sat down. And then I remembered that I hadn’t yet written my initials on the cup with the marker, and figured it was better to write it on there before peeing instead of after in case I accidentally spilled the cup.

So I got back up, at which point the toilet paper slid into the bowl, so I had to recover the seat again once I was done with the permanent red pen.

After almost 20-years of pissing in cups, I have acquired pretty good aim. Of course, nobody’s perfect, so I wound up getting a little bit of pee dripping down the side of the cup. I wiped the excess pee off with a tissue, then set the cup on the floor so that I could finish up, and then I started wondering if anyone had ever accidentally kicked the cup over while pulling their pants up and then I pondered what in the hell I would tell the nurse if I did, in fact, kick the cup over. How would I explain that without looking like a complete and total dumb ass?

Luckily, I managed to avoid kicking over the cup, and I safely secured it behind the secret little metal door, at which point I washed my hands, opened the door, and followed the nurse down the hall to the examination room where I proceeded to strip down completely, put on one of those highly attractive robes that open in the FRONT, drape an itchy white sheet over my legs, and wait for a person I see once a year to come into the room to feel my boobs and stick a cold metal object into my cha-cha.

Yeah. There’s just nothing remotely Mom Sexy about annual OBGYN visits.