Have you ever put your driver’s license in your back pocket for easy access?
I have. In fact, my license spent a good portion of this past weekend cozied up against my tush, while my family and I traveled to Oklahoma and back.
I love my drivers license. All my previous license photos have been hideous, which I think is the standard, isn’t it? But this one is downright flattering.
I flash this baby every time I get a chance, especially since, as you can see, it’s set to expire in just a few short months.
There my license was, tucked safely in my pocket as I took Alison to the airport bathroom on our return trip. She went, I went. She’s incredibly sweet in that she always covers the automatic toilet flusher sensor for me so I won’t get an unexpected hind-end shower.
I stood up. I pulled up my pants.
Do you know where this is going? Are you cringing, yet?
The back of my jeans bumped against the front rim of the toilet as I pulled them up.
My license fell out.
I watched, in slow motion, as my favorite drivers license fell into a public toilet, a toilet in a major airport toilet no less, full of my pee as well as my daughter’s and I couldn’t get turned around fast enough to try and grab it as it fell.
Oh, and there was toilet paper, too, let’s not forget the toilet paper.
I was seriously torn between letting the automatic flusher carry my license away and sticking my hand into the toilet to fish it out.
*GAG* *Wretch* *Cringe*
The deciding factor was my vanity. I have a few more months of flushing flashing that photo before it gets replaced with some hideous monstrosity that will plague me for the next five years.
I fished it out, swiftly, and scrubbed it in the airport sink for at least fifteen minutes, dry heaving all the while. And when we got home, I soaked it in piping hot bleach water.
I still don’t want to touch it.
I may just go ahead and get a new license, after all. Because, ewww.
Just, ewww. *gag* *wretch* *cringe*