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While dull traveling pains pass from my eyes to my toes, I think I hate asking for help, but damn it, please bring me the Motrin? My sweet and tolerant husband now on double duty at home, brings them to me. I feel like I'm asking too much, I know what it's like taking care of the house, the kids, the bills, etc. It's a learned job of organization, patience and developed skill set to obtain a level of success. No one can competently come in and take over and get it all right, especially without very much experience.
In my life, most women have their own little saying about men and dealing with a women's menstruation. From PMS to the days they need a constant flow (no pun intended) of ibuprofen and hot tea with the heating pad in good condition (don't forget the chocolate please).
My belief is, if men had periods there would be menstrual wings added on (or originally in the blueprint) of hospitals. They would have reflexologists that do rounds. There would be assistants who walk around with a variety of choice movies to pop into the DVD player, because of course it's understood that changing ones mind often is part of the "disease". This applies to the vast menu of snacks, magazines and lighting. Lighting? Well you do know, the dimmers are for medicinal purposes to aid in the reduction of their menstrual migraines. They would have thin and thick blankets accessible to them at all times, as we know their symptoms of rapid hot and cold flashes must be minimized.
Now, my husband humors me when I begin to rant about this day dream (all I have while grounded to my post, until I can stand up straight) so I indulge, notice that? He does try to put reality into it, which NEVER works when I am not a willing participant. He states these things are available now for women, if they have the money of course. I set him straight right quickly, back to my argument (of the moment). These things, I say, would be covered in standard insurance policies, like duh... where's the mystery here. We are talking if MEN had periods, he doesn't play along well at times and I find this incredibly irritating.
So now as the ice is pouring down from the skies, on a Valentines Day which we can't afford to celebrate, after he took two trips to the school (kids forgot a book), went to CVS because the 11 year needed a box of chocolates or else his girlfriend would dump him, traveled to the food store for much needed pads (for yours truly, which by the way.. like most men, just LOVES to buy them.. his favorite part, staring at the five hundred choices knowing they MUST be the right ones, or he'll be returning OMG) then helping our aging Dad to clear and salt his walkway to the car, sits down, looks around and sees that the house is a wreck, dishes need to be done and then he can start his day. Did I mention the sexy red teddy is not going to make it out of the drawer tonight? I bet you already knew that. Well so does he. Poor guy.
Now, I read this back and see myself end in... Poor guy. Wait a minute. I have traveling pain from my eyes to my toes... I tell ya, if men had periods there would be Menstrual Wings. Uh oh.. here I go again..
When the dishwasher breaks? I'm a goner.. but he's there. When the computer freezes and I can't have my DU fix, he's there. When the gutters are overflowing, he's there. When the car needs fixin'.. he's there. When I'm stir crazy from being grounded as I am now...he's there. On Valentine's Day, he's there.
Although I indulge in fantasy, I much prefer my reality. I know he does.
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