GAME ON, MOTHER NATURE
Today’s contributor wages war on her period when it disrupts her love life one time too many.
Aunt Flow. Aunt Dot. Mother Nature. Ever since that horrifying afternoon in Ms. Turner’s 5th grade class, when I fainted at the first sight of my unsolicited monthly gift, Aunt whatever-you-want-to-call-her has been my least favorite relative ever since.
Every month like clock work, she’d come around, and I’d be out of commission for at least 5 days. The only thing I could imagine being more painful than her stomach-cramping visits was giving birth to sextuplets with no drugs. But I digress.
These days Aunt Flow has been irregular — only paying me a visit every other month or whenever she feels like it. My worst mistake was thinking she wouldn’t show up at the most inopportune time — a first date!
I was in the middle of great conversation and a delicious turkey burger with a handsome artist when I first felt a trickle. But he was so sexy, I thought I was just “excited.” Besides, Aunt Flow wouldn’t dare be this vicious? Or would she? I was so engulfed in conversation that I wouldn’t find out until at least two hours later. And by then, a little trickle had turned into the menstrual equivalent of Niagara Falls.
As we sat in the restaurant laughing about our favorite scenes from The Hangover, I noticed that my chair felt a little sticky. I lifted myself up to see what it was and realized it was covered in blood. And then it happened — just like I had done in Ms. Turner’s 5th grade class — I took one look at my unsolicited monthly gift and I fainted.
I don’t know what scared the dude off more — seeing me pass out or seeing the puddle of blood in my chair. Either way, I was too embarrassed to ever call him again. I promised that when I saw Aunt Flow again, I was gonna kill that bitch. I did — I started the pill.
