The Ewww Factor

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*