Kiss my ass, Mother Nature
When I met Aunt Flow 20 years ago, she showed up unannounced, unexpected and unwelcome on Christmas Eve. Mom, in her infinite wisdom, had bought a box of Kotex a year before in anticipation of her daughters becoming women. But my sister and I had dumped blue mouthwash on all of them to see if they'd work like they did in the commercials. (They didn't.)
Mom also decided that at 10 o'clock at night this would be just the BEST time to get in some father/daughter bonding. So off Dad and I trekked to Walgreens, making every effort not to look at each other or speak.
When we arrived, one of his coworkers was there getting some last minute gift and OF COURSE he wants to chat. Meanwhile, Dad leans over and whispers "Why don't you go get your. . .uh..your. . .your lady items." Thanks, Dad. Then the cashier lady smiles and says, "I think it is just so sweet that you're here buying this for your daughter. That is just so sweet."
Lady, I am begging you, please, just STFU.
Ever since then, Mother Nature spends one week lovingly crafting a home for a fetus. And every month, she gets righteously pissed to find that I have no need for such accommodations.
At first, she starts with the passive aggressive bullshit. I balloon and my pants don't fit. I retain water like the fucking Hoover dam. It doesn't matter what I do or don't do. I avoid salt, even though I'm craving so much salt that I could consume all of the salt in the Utah mines and ask for more.
Then, she decides we're going to revisit puberty and my face breaks out. Oh yeah, that's fun.
And then, AND THEN...the fun REALLY BEGINS.
(continued)
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