Erin: Can you come get me? Cramps really bad. No Midol. Hurt. Pain.A few seconds later.
Erin: Contemplating ripping out ovaries.Had to stop laughing long enough to text without my hands shaking.
Me: On my way.
On the way home:
Erin: "I wish I were a guy. They don't have to deal with periods."
Me: "No, they just have to deal with the women who do. Ask your father about it. I can't tell you how often he's called before coming home just to find out whether he should wear the kevlar. (5 daughters will do that to you). At least he has a good sense of humor about it.Now that I think about it, guys also have the problem of needing to be able to know when not to cross the threshold without a chocolate sacrifice. I think I like being a woman more than I would a man. (I'd also hate to be wrong all the time).
QOTD: Why Periods? Why can't Mother Nature just text me and be like "Waddup girl, you ain't pregnant. Have a great week. Talk to you next month."? ~ unknown