This girl is funny...not skinny.

This girl is funny...not skinny.

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Oh, so this ISN'T the tie that binds us together?


I have cramps.

I don't just have cramps.  I have cramps that would drop a charging elephant.  I have cramps that make it impossible to sit up, stand up, walk, or tie my shoes without moaning.  Basically, I'm a zombie...only instead of brains, I'm looking for the perfect pain med that will relieve cramps.

Did I miss work?

Of course not.  I'm a woman, and as such, I suffer every month the searing pain that feels like everything inside me is being tied into knots and then set on fire while drunken monkeys do the hustle up and down my back, and I do so without missing work.

When I gave birth to a daughter, I knew I had brought into the world another with whom I could commiserate about cramps.  I knew that the day would come that she, too, would beg for not one, but TWO heating pads.  We would shop for dark sweat pants together and think of ways we could lie down all day without missing work or school.

Just give me two fingers of Midol with a Pamparin chaser and I'll be fine.
And so it came to  pass a couple years ago that Peaches joined the ranks of cramp sufferers and our bond, not as mother and daughter, but as women who are handicapped in the gender wars...handicapped by their own monthly clock.  And believe me, when the clock strikes midnight, Cinderella is high tailing it back to her comfy couch, hot tea, and romantic comedy movies.

Peaches and I truly have a bond...and each month it's renewed as we ignore the men in the house who warn us to not sleep on the heating pad while it's on, or who don't bring us the MIDOL FAST ENOUGH.  I believed she and I were truly on the same plane.

Until today.

Today, I have cramps.  I've kept it to myself...mostly because I work with men, and I'm not about to discuss cramps at work...and certainly NOT with Elsie W.  (By the way...have you VOTED YET?)  So I waited until I was taking Peaches to cheer practice before I confessed my agony.

"My ovaries are throbbing."  (I have always had a flair for the humorous.)  I thought that this new way of saying "I HAVE CRAMPS."  Would be appreciated by Peaches.

I thought wrong.

She looked at me, horror frozen on her face like those weird "pudding faces" you see in TV commercials.  Then she said, "Why would you say something like that?"

Hey, I thought it was funny.  Why do I say 90% of anything I say?  Because I think it's funny.

Peaches, however, did not think this was funny.

"What, you have a problem with that?"

"No.  But why...why would you say something like that?"

Friends, there was no one else in the car.  No one else nearby.  I've said stuff WAY worse than that..."Okay, fine,"  I said, "I thought it would be more colorful than saying, 'I have cramps' for the tenth time."

"well, stop being colorful."  She got out of the car.  "And good luck with your cramps."

Yeah, good luck with my cramps.  Guess who is going to use up all the GOOD Midol and NOT buy any more.  Good luck with that!

I need to go lie down now, eat some toast, and watch Biggest Loser.  Does that count as a workout?  Someone go ask KRAM.  I can't right now.

I have cramps.

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