This morning my mother calls me and says, “Hey, can I drop by outside of your office and give you a bottle of my pee to drop off at the lab (I work in a building attached to the clinic that she frequents for her plethora of older age ailments)?” to which I reply, “Um, I guess. Will you put it in a bag or something?” She laughs heartily and says “of course!” Ten minutes later my phone rings, and my mom shouts in to her cell phone as she tends to do, “I’m outside!” I run down the flights of stairs and walk out to the sidewalk looking for my mother’s minivan. I find her and walk over, she rolls down her window and hands me a paper bag. “Is it in here?” I ask. “Yep, it’s all here.” She replies. “I feel like we’re making a drug deal.” I confess to her. “It looks like I’m delivering your lunch!” She says laughing. The thought of me holding a bag containing a container of urine and lunch at the same time makes me slightly queasy. I change the subject and ask “is the paperwork in the bag.” To which she answers yes. I walk away and as I’m walking I look back to see my mother waving enthusiastically and then she blows me a kiss. I’m 41, it’s weird. I walk into the clinic part of the building, up the stairs to the lab on the 2nd floor. Go to the window and deliver the goods. “Here is a urine sample from my mom. The paperwork is in there.” The woman looks down her nose over her glasses at me and says “what time did she urinate?” I say, “Uh, I’m not sure, can’t be too long ago.” She says sternly, “I need to record the time and need to write something down.” “Just put down 8:00… that sounds good” I say. She eyes me suspiciously and agrees to put down 8:00. It’s amazing the kinds of things you can accomplish before 9:00 a.m. on a Thursday.