It's confession time! Let's fess up about our less-than-honorable indulgences!

Here's mine: There's a grocery store in my town that has designated a special parking space for expectant mothers. It's solely a PR move; the space isn't particularly primo, though it's closer to the store than some spots in the parking lot. I resent the existence of the thing, which seems to imply that pregnancy is a disability, rather than being, in the majority of cases (god, how I wish I could say all cases), a voluntary condition.*

I park in that spot every chance I get.

(I will admit that I harbor an irrational bitterness towards the concept of kowtowing to pregnant women, because, as a woman who has never in her life wished to have children, I have been shat upon by far, far too many condescending pregnant women and new mothers in my time. Obviously, pregnancy and childbirth doesn't turn all women into smug know-it-alls who seem hungry for a chance to imply that you're inferior or less-of-a-woman for choosing not to join their saintly ranks—but the women it does transform into unbearable Condescension Monsters are the types who stick in your memory, and your craw, for a long time after.)

*Yes, I realize pregnancy can result in physical disability. That's not the point here.