memoirs from a melodramatic childhood...

i don't know how it was at your house, but the transition from bath to shower was a big deal for the richmond family. it was a graduation of sorts...a sign that you were growing older and could be given more responsibility. one night, soon after my graduation to showers (six or seven years old), my mother could tell as she tucked me into bed that i had something on my mind. i was quite perplexed, but upon questioning, i informed her that i wanted to tell her but "it was too awful and you'd get too mad." my mother assured me that she would not get too many and that nothing was too awful to tell her, however, i did not budge. each night for several nights in a row this melodramatic scene went down of a seven year old worrying herself sick with grief and shame and tragedy, and her mother, being used to the over dramatic nature of her daughter, not thinking too terribly much of it.
finally, i cracked. i couldn't take it anymore. i had to confess to my mother what awful thing had occurred. i said, "mom..." she said, "yes..." i said, "the other day in the shower (...long...dramatic...pause...) I THINK I'M PREGNANT!" of course my mother was momentarily worried, and i'm sure scanning through a list of possible interpretations of this word or what might have occurred. upon further questioning, and several repeated "why do you think that, allison?" i reluctantly gave up the information "the other day in the shower, i stuck my finger in my belly button." and my mother said, "well...don't ever do that again!" she did not say, "oh you're not pregnant" nor did she even say "that's not how you get pregnant." she just said that i better not do that again.
you can imagine my surprise several years later during sex ed. class when come to find out, your belly button is not apart of one's reproductive system.