Recently “Aunt Flo” came to visit. Yes, THAT Aunt Flo. You know, from Tampa.
My only-child boyfriend, whose knowledge of “Flo” and all of her baggage she brings when she visits (tampons, moodiness, bloating, etc) is fairly limited. I mean, he gets it but doesn’t necessarily know the “ins and outs” so to speak, of the whole ordeal.
Here are a few excerpts from the days preceding and during “the visit.”
“So, why is it called a period? I mean, wouldn’t exclamation point be a little more accurate?”
At this point, horns grew from my head as it spun around. Actually, he was just kidding and trying to bring light of the fact that I wanted to die a horrific death and bring him with me.
As we were getting ready to go to the pool:
Danny: “So, can you go swimming, when, you know?”
Me: Yes, but NEVER around sharks.
Me: “I’m sorry for being such a b!tch lately. It’s not you, just hormones.
Danny (as he gives me a hug): “I know babe but you’re my b!tch and that’s what’s important.”
Friday, August 15, 2008
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1 comment:
HAHAHA...Oh poor poor Danny!
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