You know all those books about parenting and child birth that are based on the shaky premise that “this is the stuff your momma never told you!!” (exclamations!! ALL CAPS!!)
Did those books tell you this–That after you have a baby, ALL YOUR PERIODS FOREVERMORE WILL BE A RECREATION OF THE SCENE IN THE GODFATHER WHEN JACK WOLZ FINDS A SEVERED HORSE HEAD IN HIS BED? DID THAT BOOK TELL YOU THAT? MINE CERTAINLY DIDN’T.
Sorry fellas, if you’re reading this, and you don’t want to talk about my periods, because I sure do.
No. That’s wrong. I shouldn’t discriminate. Perhaps, Kind Sir, you are a menstrual-afficionado, which is a term I am one hundred percent sure I personally made up, just now.
Other ways to describe a woman’s post baby period include:
1. a bloodbath
2. a crime scene
3. that scene from The Shining in which blood pours out of the elevators
4. a shark attack
5. a matador goring
6. when a shark attacks you and then a tiger jumps into the ocean and further attacks you, and then you find yourself at the Overlook Hotel and you take the blood elevator to blood town.
Also, your period lasts twelve days, but comes every fifteen days, so that you literally have three days a month in which you don’t have to leave the party with a jacket tied around your waist.
There is no protection up to the task. Tampons are a joke. Your period looks at gigantic hospital grade pads and scoffs.
You will never get to wear white pants again, and if you do, don’t say I didn’t warn you.
The Takeaway? Don’t ever leave your house again.
That’s all I have to say about it.
*drops mic* *walks offstage* *weeps softly in a corner*
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