Pee Pocket

I was unaware of the used, though mostly empty urinal that was resting on the window sill in the hospital room where I was visiting my brother. As I rested my body against the window sill, I knocked that sucker over. I thought I caught it in time as gross as it was to have to touch something my brother peed in. It wasn't until I stuck my hands into my pockets that I exclaimed, "Why is my pocket wet?" You know how when Milk is beginning to sour, and you have to keep smelling it over and over again to decide if it has spoiled or not? Well, that was what I was doing with my hand. Feeling and feeling inside my pocket wondering where this sudden moisture came from. Then the light bulb went off. Ding! (That sounds more like a bell I suppose). Yes indeed, the urinal spilled more than a few droplets into my jacket pocket and my hand was touching pee! Not only pee, but BROTHER PEE. The worst kind of pee a person should ever have to touch. With disinfectant soap, water, and a lot of time, my hand will recover. My hand maybe, but not my memory.