Not your average weekend.

I had to do something over the weekend that I really, truly thought I'd never have to do again.

Yesterday, I went in to work in the morning.  Shawn and the kids went to swimming lessons.  Kenz and I hung out while Shawn took AJ to see a matinee of The Avengers.  We did some housework, and some yard work, Mackenzie hung out with the girl next door, I baked a little...it was your typical Saturday at the Killam's.

Except THIS was looming over our heads.

It has been for several days now.

Finally, at about 4:00 in the afternoon, I thought I was going to explode, like I literally couldn't take it anymore.  I came rushing out of the house, in a kind of weird panicky state, looking like a huge mess on account of the housework and baking.  Shawn was busy mowing and leaf-hoggin' (no, of course that's not a word.  But it totally should be.)

Me: "I'm running down to Rexall."

Shawn (drops the Leaf Hog): "Oh.  OK.  Do you think you should?"

Me: "Do YOU think I should?"

Shawn: "Well I haven't thought about much else for the past few days."

Me: "Me neither.  I'm going."

Shawn:  "OK.  Yes.  Go."

Now, I love Rexall.  It's like three minutes from my house, and it's huge and bright and brand new, and I love wandering through their makeup section, and their milk is super cheap, way cheaper than Costco.  And, there's hardly ever anyone in there.  But yesterday?  Everyone in town was there.  Because OF COURSE they were.  OF COURSE the store is FILLED with people when I need to stand at the edge of the aisles and look for the words "Family Planning."

Yep.  Family F***ING planning.

And, of COURSE there are three people in line in front of me, and three behind me, as I stand there with my little white and blue box, giant CLEARBLUE EASY letters visible all the way to the next goddamn town, really, people, maybe manufacturers of these bloody things could try and make the box just a tad more discreet?!?  The woman in front of me is staring at the box, back to me, back to the box.  The cashier is like, "would you like anything else with that?"  Why, yes, little cashier lady, I sure would like a bottle of whiskey and a friggin' tranquilizer to get me through what I have to go home and do, but NEVER MIND THANKS I'M GOOD JUST RING UP MY GODDAMN PURCHASE AND YES I DO WANT A FRICKIN' BAG, THANK YOU VERY BLOODY MUCH!!!

Got home in one piece (barely).

Shawn's like, "DO IT!  DO IT!"

I'm like, dude, I don't even have to go pee yet.

He's like, "DRINK SOME WATER!!!!"

So I did.  And then he decided it was a good time to go to the yard waste recycling place.

Really, dear?  Excellent timing.

When he gets home, he's outside shocking the hot tub.  I have already taken the test, but he doesn't know it yet.  I knock on the sliding door that leads out to our deck.  He looks up.  I give a huge smile and two thumbs up.

He points to his stomach, eyes wide and terrified, mouths the words "You ARE?!?!?!"

I start quickly shaking my head. "NO!  No, no, no!!"

Then he does this kind of weird fall-down, head-between-his-knees thing, and I'm pretty sure he almost had a heart attack.

And first thing Monday morning, we'll be having a chat with the first available Snippy doctor.  Neither of us is interested in going through this again.

Unless it was a false negative...??