Last week I was on the rag.
For those of you unfamiliar with that analogy, let me break it down for you: I was on my period, mother nature dropped her bombshell, my menses came to pass. Got it? Okay.
So I was on the rag and I walked into my bathroom and lo and behold, my eye balls landed on the little basket full of tampons and pads and shit that sits unobtrusively in the corner once a month.
And I got really pissed off.
Whose brilliant fucking idea was it to put butterflies and flowers on feminine hygiene product packaging?
Let me be clear: pieces of my body are flowing out at a high rate of speed. I’m cramping so hard, at any given moment my ovaries are going to rip their way out of my body like a scene out of Alien. I don’t wanna see no stinking flowers. (said like Al Pacino in Scarface)
I want to see a skull and crossbones with a bio hazard symbol.
I want to see a little note reminding me that I really do love my husband and not to smother him in his sleep.
I want to find a coupon good at any grocery store for a free bottle of wine AND a gallon of ice cream.
I want to unwrap a tampon and immediately hear the voices of a thousand tiny angels singing in perfect harmony that it’s almost over and then make it rain glitter in celebration of the fact.
I mean really, is all of that too much to ask??
Because I just. can’t. even. with the damn butterflies and flowers.