Why, why, WHY THE FREAK WHY, does my period have to start at the end of such a lame day?
WHY?
It isn’t even my scheduled time.
GRRRRR.
What to do? I suppose I could just sit here and bitch, but then, I’ve bitched quite a lot lately. I don’t really want to waste “Bitch Points” on something that will occur so many more times in the future.
I suppose I could choose to turn this into a positive experience and try to impart som uplifting words of wisdom to you all.
Hmmm….Let me think…
OOOOHHH!!!!
When I was in Kindergarten or the 1st grade (Don’t remember, sorry), I dawdled before school. My mom went to work and my brother and sister walked on to school without me. They didn’t want to wait for me to change out of my roller skates.
As I clampered clumsily up the stairs, I tripped and hit my head on the corner of the concrete step.
Head wounds tend to bleed a lot.
I went in search of medical supplies. “Medical Supplies” to a 7-year-old means a BandAid, of course.
As a child, I was notorious for sticking BandAids on the walls, counters, uninjured legs, the pets, and my siblings. I just liked it. I was ALSO notorious for taking those really cool, white, fluffy BandAids out of my mom and older sister’s drawers, peeling off the back paper and sticking them all over the walls of the bathroom.
For some reason, they were always very unhappy when it was discovered.
I would ask my mom what the big deal was with THOSE BandAids. She always replied that she would, “Tell me when I was older”.
Uh, ok.
SO…when I went up to try and get BandAids for my Boo Boo, I was dismayed to find that I had used the last one the week before to try and make two slinky’s link together.
What to do?
AH, HA! The white, fluffy, BandAids! Perfect! I wasn’t even very late to school.
As an adult, I look back with amazement at the composure my teacher showed when she was confronted with a rumpled, bloody little girl with a Maxi-Pad stuck on her forehead.
How’s THAT for uplifting?
That is SO funny!!! That must have been a VERY composed teacher!!!
What in the hell is a 7 year old doing home alone??? I mean….the
story is funny but what were you doing home alone?? What if you really, really would’ve hurt yourself badly? Sorry….just the mom in me coming out….
OMG! Too many things to say. They all want to come out at once. Can’t… pick… just… one.
?ungh*
I think nearly everyone has a great pad or tampon story from either their childhood or a sibling’s childhood or a date’s siblings childhood. Teehee!
So I was going to comment on the last post about how good it was to hear that I wasn’t the only one talking myself through crazy-lady emotions for the last two days, but I didn’t, because I felt silly. Now, though, I have to. I didn’t know that pheremones could travel from Utah to Minnesota. What the hell?
btw, I LOVE that story. Jonathan says you need to get it published.
OK, apparently the hormones were just raging and can be passed through ethernet. I dunno, but what a wacked out week for all of us.
“I think nearly everyone has a great pad or tampon story from either their childhood”
charli,
You may be correct, but after years of therapy they have all been replaced with images of my happy place.
I can guarantee you the only time tampons or pads are part of a man’s happy place is when they are needed after being “a little late”.
I am killing myself with laughter here! That’s better than my childhood story. I used to think my mom’s “candles” were lit down below. Don’t ask me why!
I also used to blow up the “balloons” I found in my dad’s nightstand table and show my mom how nice they looked.
Oh Lord! But yours YOURS takes the cake.
LOL – I think I remember you mentioning this story at one point. I bet your mom regretted not telling you what those nice, big, fluffy white band-aids were before you went and stuck them on your head! :D
David’s right – guys have a very different notion of what constitutes a funny tampon story.
This is why the decorated Band-Aids were invented. If it didn’t have stars or fire trucks or mermaids on it, it was one of mommy’s
But back to the concept of Bitch Points. How do you get them? Monthly? At an age-dependent rate? Do you get extras for having a husband or children? And most important, do guys get them, or is this a feminist plot? Do you have a post which explains the rules, Loralee?
LMAO! If only you had a picture, I probably would have peed my pants laughing so hard!
And reading the comments are just as funny. Rowan – I did the same thing with the “balloons” I found in my parents room. Makes me gag thinking about it.
Oh, come on, Loralee! Stick a pad on your head and give us a picture! Think of it as a dramatic re-enactment!