Alcohol: The consolation prize for negative pregnancy tests.

I am waiting for my period. Let me just get it out there right now. This morning, when I realized Ryan had brought home enough alcohol for a 4th of July party with Lindsay Lohan, but it was just the two of us, I'd thought I better take a test so I don't feel guilty about downing the one beer I may potentially have. (As for the rest of the beer, we may have to send Lindsay an invite.)

Let's just be clear: I knew I wasn't pregnant. We are using contraception, for one thing. But also, I knew I didn't feel any different. Except for the usual pre-menstrual don't-touch-me-or-talk-to-me moodiness. Like I said, totally normal.

Still, to clear my conscience and partly for the fun of it, I wanted to take one. I like to have a few stocked in the bathroom for situations like these that seem to arise a couple times a year.

So off we went. While we usually try to take our cloth bags and go to Whole Foods like the hipsters that we are, this was not the right destination for our purposes. Even if they did have pregnancy tests there, I don't think I'd want to use one. What would it be like? Pee on a stick that is actually a stick and if you smell patchouli, you're pregnant? Plus, we needed some very tasteful luxury items like $2.00 turquoise eyeshadow and ice pops.

Soon, I found myself staring at a pregnancy test, half-wishing it would be positive. When you feel so close to being ready for a baby, but not quite, it seems like a surprise pregnancy would be the same as getting a parental stamp of approval direct from God himself.

Ryan peeked in and asked, "Got anything yet?" I said, "you mean, like a baby?"

Well, I don't have to tell you the result. Even though it's not the right time for us to get pregnant, there's always some disappointment at seeing a big negative staring you in the face. Then again, I got to have some guilt-free alcohol tonight. All is as it should be.