As it turns out, I didn't win the internet

Well, that's enough about zombies for me.

Instead I'll direct your attention to something referred to as "pregnancy brain" - the idea that being pregnant takes up so much of your brain's time and energy that you begin to forget things at an accelerated rate. This idea is always tossed about on pregnancy websites and forums.

It is always followed by a claim that there is no scientific proof for "pregnancy brain" and then that is always followed by anecdotal evidence.

This is my anecdotal evidence.

I've always thought of myself as having an average memory span. I can remember groups of 7-9 objects as is the norm and I forget things when I walk through doorways - also the norm. However, the other Friday got me thinking that maybe, just maybe, I might be falling onto a spectrum of forgetfulness previously unknown.

Smiley and I were preparing to go to a dinner party at a friend's house. We had been asked to bring some folding chairs and I was planning on making a bean dip. Smiley texted me while I was at work to remind me about the chairs and I texted back, confirming that we would bring chairs.

Then I left work and went home and that's when things went wrong. Well, not at first. First, I made the bean dip (which is delightfully tasty and I need to find a way to make it in smaller batches) and put that on the counter with the bag of chips next to my purse. Then my husband and I made sure the doors were locked and headed out to the car.

We drove to our friend's house and it was only once we pulled into the driveway that Smiley remembered we had completely forgotten the chairs. Well, shoot I thought. Ok, I guess it's not the worst thing in the world, right? People can stand? I can volunteer to stand since we didn't bring any. We'll make it work.

So we go inside and I set down my prized bean dip and then go to open the bag of chips and realize, well, I had forgotten the chips. The chips that had been right next to the dip and my purse on the counter-top. The chips that were a huge variable in the enjoyment of bean dip equation. I made Smiley check the car. Then I checked the car. But it was futile - there were no chips.

Our gracious hosts happened to have some chips on hand (as well as some extra chairs) and so neither event ended up as a crisis of flavor or comfort. However, I did clearly feel the twinge of "how the heck can I forget things, such as chips, that are a vital part of the dish I am bringing to dinner?" and it wasn't pleasant.

Once we returned home for the evening, I saw the bag of chips staring at me from the kitchen counter, a sadness reflected in the defeated wrinkles of its packaging. I turned the light off in the kitchen and hung my head.

Then I made plans to make more bean dip since, why not? I've already got the chips.