Friday, March 14, 2008

"W" is for, "Are you Freaking Kidding Me?"


I have a theory that women endure more embarrassing moments in their lives then men. Let me give you some examples.


1. It all starts with puberty. Unlike guys, boobs are right out there for everyone to see. So, pretty much everyone can tell if you have hit puberty or not. Sure sure, guys voices change, big deal.

2. Next is the purchasing of "feminine products". Now, some young girls were lucky enough to have their mothers do this on their behalf. Having a mother that wanted to instill independence, I was not so lucky.


When you are in middle school, and even some times into adulthood (ahem, Simpson), this is mortifying. There is nothing like walking around a grocery store when you are 13 with a box of pads and tampons in front of a bunch of people announcing to the world, "I am on my period and I have reached puberty. I am woman". Thank God for whoever created self-scan.


3. Continuing, two-pieces. I think we can all say we have suffered some sort of embarrassing moment from a minimal coverage bathing suit. Thankfully, all of mine have been underwater.


4. Staying in the same realm, the first pap smear. This is obviously an invention from man. I'll never forget seeing the salad-tosser-like probe going towards my privates. I was 15 and I was scared for my life. My Mom DID NOT warn me, maybe it was for the best.


5. My latest "adventure" included the purchase of some Monistat. Nothing says sexy like a yeast infection. Unfort. my cart was way over 15 items. As I frantically scanned the checkout aisles for a female-female pairing, I realized I was doomed. Should I pick a male scanner and a female bagger or a female scanner and a male bagger?? I went for the former. I don't want no tween boy handling my personal goods and laughing to himself making fish jokes.


Damn that Eve.


From what I hear, it only gets worse. I am seriously going to have a surrogate carry my child. A woman can only handle so much. I was already cursed with teeth that are like magnets to broccoli, the last thing I need is a room full of residents staring at my hoo-ha as I deliver my first born.


It is no wonder women are, in all reality, the backbone of the family.

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