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Awful parenting moments, That is something I can never unsee., worst things a kid can say to his mother
It’s 6:30 am. I have just woken my son for school. J runs out of his room and says excitedly:
J: “Hey Mom, look at my penis. It’s sticking out like a pencil.”
Ah Jesus. I can’t think of any conversation I’d less like to have at 6:30 in the morning, or ever, for that matter. I turn my head… Nooooo…. And there it is. His little pajama pants are all tented out like a horrible… pencil. He’s right. Ah, Jesus.
Me: “Okay, J. Ummm, it’s okay, this is normal, don’t worry, it’s okay, (did I already say that?) this happens to all boys. See… while you were asleep last night, all your blood”
J interrupts:
J: “I know all that already Mom, Daddy told me. I just wanted to show it to you. See? It’s cool. It’s like a sword.”
He makes a sound like a light saber and runs back into his room to get dressed.
Me: (I say nothing, because at this point all MY blood has drained from my brain, and I have passed out on my kitchen floor.)
I don’t know how you all live with those things.
Aw dear Gawd, you have just lightened my load considerably, I love you for that NTT. I really do 😀 xxx xxx
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At least there’s that. In fact, I bet just about everybody had a better morning than me. I mean, I want him to be able to come to me with… Stuff… But penis stuff is not my domain. I do not own one of those, and therefore I cannot speak with authority on it’s care and husbandry.
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We need to figure out a way to get J and Oscar together….what fun that would be for a playdate!
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I totally agree. They would be fast friends, and maybe J could explain to Oscar why his pencil stands up in the morning, and save you the angst.
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Upon reflection, perhaps J should keep quiet about Oscars widgie. We don’t need him to think anymore about becoming a girl.
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Oh, the joys of having a son!
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Yes… Joy. It was joy.
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My husband and I have already decided on a strict division of labor on this stuff: I get periods, bras, and boys and Will gets anything having to do with a penis. I almost couldn’t handle “circumcision after-care.” ***Shudder***
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We have decided on a very similar division of labor, however, he wasn’t at home this morning when the pencil-sword “popped” up. I’m still shivering, I’m just not qualified to handle this type of thing. I guess I should be happy that he’s so open about it. Or not, I mean, I don’t really want him going to school and telling his teacher about it.
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Haha, boys’ll be boys eh!
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Heh, yeah… (shudder) Boys…
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Imagine the conversations he must have with his friends at school….
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Well, NOW I am!
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… and to make you feel better, I have to tell you about son#2 who one night (when he was around 5) decided to paint red and blue circles around his penis with coloured magic markers. Soap and water wasn’t getting us anywhere so we resigned ourselves to this being a few days to gradually wear off.
… contrary to your thoughts about your son not talking to the teacher, we discovered our little boy liked to share. He was particularly fond of his artwork … at least that was the way the daycare workers put it. VERY.EMBARASSING.PARENTING.MOMENT
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That is fantastic. How funny- Look Miss….. I wrote on my penis. Was it a pair of eyes above and then a smiley face below?
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Circles. Right. Were they the smelly magic markers? You could’ve told them he was high on magic marker.
Or maybe not.
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Thank god, no – he didn’t think of that! Just the barber pole circles in red and blue.
I told him about this not long ago (he’s 26 now). He thought it was hilarious. Boys are such … boys.
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Barber pole. That’s so funny. I’m sure he thought it was hilarious. Boys and their penises are inseparable, I don’t even want to think about when he figures out it’s other uses.
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Ugh. Boys. Those willies give me the willies!!
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He was so proud. And when he ran away, he was acting like Master Yoda or something. It’s in their DNA. It has to be.
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Ha! Light saber, that’s a good one. My five year old son calls his a “magic wand” because it can . . . well, you know how the rest goes.
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God, what it wrong with them? It’s like they’re hard wired to be best friends with their genitalia forever and ever. His magic wand. That’s great, though. He’s funny.
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Come to think of it, I think I might have had a boyfriend or who who called theirs “a Magic Wand” as well. The name’s a keeper.
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This too shall pass naptimehtoughts. And, as uncomfortable as it is, I think you shall find that as they grow older, you won’t worry half as much about the teenage boy as you will the teenage girl. It is easy peasy to figure out who the boy is hangin with (as peer pressure builds) – just put a trampoline in the back yard and when they all gather, like bees to a flower, just scope them out. Feeding them , although expensive, will keep them in range, as they won’t wonder far from a fridge without cash – keep them poor.
Girls, ,however, are another matter. They will not bring male friends close to home or even give a hint that they have one. They will tend to wander long distances for love and do some rather thoughtless things. Trampolines and food are no deterrent to this behaviour. Our daughter once decided to take some friends (inculding boys) for a ride in our van when she was 14. She was very smart about it and “borrowed” a set of car keys, including the steering wheel lock key, and had copies made and returned the originals. She left home while we were asleep at 2 am and we didn’t notice – she had a van full of teens when she blew a tire and called home in a panic to have the tire changed. Ha! When she blew the tire, she pulled into a 24 hour service station and parked between the pumps. Apparently the young attendant tried to get her to move but she wouldn’t and told him she may hurt the rim. It was still there when we arrived, changed the tire and drove her friends home. Sneaky and smart – a scary combination.
The boy on the other hand was not in the least bit sneaky even when we would have preferred him to be. I came home one cold winter day when he was about 14, and found him standing on the peak of the roof surveying the neighborhood. After I told him to get down before he killed himself on the steep, ice covered roof, he assured me he was fine and it wasn’t dangerous at all, although he did climb down. I asked him what he was doing, and his response was that he wanted to see what the neigborhood looked like from up there. What can I say?
Anyway I think you’ll be pulling out less hair with the boy than with the girls in the years to come. Meanwhile enjoy them while you can. Ha!
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I watched my sister raise twins- a boy and a girl, and she tells a tale like your own. Girls are smarter and sneakier. I was, anyhow. I don’t expect a lot of trouble from J during his teenage years, if his personality now is any indication, he’ll be a homebody, and tell me POSITIVELY everything, whether I want to hear it or not. K, on the other hand, not so much. She’s sneaky already.
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Regarding boys “sneakiness”. My 7 yo son steals chocolate bars from the pantry, eats them, and hides the wraps under the couch. Once in a while, my 16 yo son pulls from under the couch around 20 wraps. This upsets me twice: 1) that he steals and 2) why doesn’t he throw away the wrap into the garbage hiding it under a paper towel as I would do? A single wrap in the garbage can (even if noticed) is far less suspicious than 20 of them under the couch.
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Thats the good thing about boys. They can be sneaky, but they’re stupid about it. A girl would have thrown the wrappers away and hoped no one noticed the missing candy. A boy, however, is like a dog. He gets into the garbage, makes a huge mess and then sits next to it until you come home to find him crouching next to his gigantic mess, obviously guilty and sorry. Girls are so much harder.
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I think what annoys you is that your son knows better than to hide things where you would find them. It took your other son to discover the ploy. Ha! Like Mother, like Son. Ha!
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It’s possible, but I think more likely is that boys are just dumb like that.
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I swear, I do not remember Matthew having any of these adventures. Or, if he did ,I have managed to block them out. So there’s some hope there….just give it 12 or 13 years 🙂
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Really? Matthew never came to you with questions (or in my case, bragging) about his lil’ friend? You must have blocked it out. Or maybe he learned it from his friends?
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hahahaahahaha! Mr. T came in and very proudly told me that he could make his penis grow without doing anything at all!
I think I swallowed my tongue.
🙂
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Hahahahahaha… It’s totally funny when it’s not me. If it were, however, I would have too. Those words, coming out of my childs’ mouth, would have thrown me into an epileptic seizure, and I can only hope that it would have wiped out my memory, so I would never have to relive that memory ever again.
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Haha! Woah haha! Just woah.
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Woah indeed. I felt the same way.
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OMG. Boys and their toys, huh? “…like a sword..” ROFL. A book, I cry, a book! Pretty please?
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I’ve said a few times, that when I have enough material that I really really like, I’ll stick in between to 2 pieces of paper, staple it all together, write my name on the front (in crayon) xerox 100 copies and sell it out the back of my car.
I got this.
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Well, let me know which parking lot to find you in when the time comes! 🙂
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I’ll send you a free copy, autographed of course, in crayon.
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Oh Lord, you made my day with this. Reminds me of the day my (now ten year old lad) at the age of around 4, looked the librarian at the local library, right in the eye and proudly proclaimed ‘Sometimes my penis goes all hard!’ I wanted to die, and it was a bloody library so you could have heard a pin drop. We are not ‘appendagely equipped’ to deal with all this. Yet, in a household with two boys and one grown up boy and a boy dog, I am surrounded by ’em.
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Oh, that’s bad. I hope there was another library close by, because I’d NEVER EVER be able to go back to that one. As is I’m on a first name basis with all our librarians.
As in: Sorry Mindy
or:
Yes, I’ll keep them quiet, jessica.
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No way. That did NOT happen!
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Yeah. It happened. He was so proud of himself, like his little light saber was the best thing that could have ever happened. I hope everything went all right when he went to go pee. I can foresee a ton of problems there.
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I don’t know whether it’s a good thing or a bad thing that your son shares so much with you! Good luck raising him! 😀
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Me neither. I don’t know how many penis conversations I can take before they come take me away.
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Peeing in sword mode is possible but not recommended. In case he asks.
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He’s not going to ask. I’m going to send him to you. I don’t care where you are or what you’re doing, I will pull you out of the most important of meetings, to answer his next penis question.
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Yes, the sword that rules the world…
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Ah yes, I should have known. I suppose you are somewhat of an authority on their care and husbandry.
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We can live with them because, exactly as he said, they’re cool.
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I can’t argue with that. And it’s not like I don’t appreciate their attributes myself, regularly. However, my abilities to teach a child, with one of those, what it does (some of which is still a mystery to me) and what to do in whatever circumstance may pop up (heh. Popped up.) is limited at best, and mortifying at worst.
I think what I’m really trying to say is:
You don’t just come up behind your mom and say “penis.”
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Look at the bright side: he could have come up behind you and said “vagina.” And where would that have left you?
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Actually, I think I would have been able to handle that better. I can go on about those forever… I’m quite knowledgable.
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My elder daughter told me once that her vagina was on her list of ten things to take to a desert island.
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That made me laugh out loud so hard Elaine, I think I may have woken up others in the house. Well, you’ll have to give her credit for being the eternal optimist. Ha! Those sailor boys – you just never know when they’ll float by. ha!
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I totally agree with her, however, I think I would expect my vagina to come along for free. I get items PLUS my vagina.
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Yes me too. I regard my vagina as standard issue (never thought I would ever write that sentence). Although it would be great if you could have spare, for off-days.
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I never thought of a spare vagina, but now that you mention it, it would be nice to have one. You know, when you’ve got that “not so fresh feeling”.
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Paul– (Elaine don’t read this, it might cause you to rinse your eyes out with hydrogen peroxide- and no one needs that) who needs sailor boys? She’s alone on a desert island, she can get creative.
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Ha! Laughing out loud twice at one comment line is a record. Raised on a desert island were we?
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No, but I did live on the Island of Manhattan for quite a while. Does that count? Probably not, considering the adult novelty shops on every corner.
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I have to say she was about eight at the time, and vagina was a new and exciting word for her; she like to engage me in conversations in public about it, to see if she could embarrass me. After we had a particularly deep and interesting discussion on a crowded train about needing to be sewn up after having babies, she stopped. The women, I have to say, on the train were shaking with laughter. The men, not so much.
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That’s fantastic. I bet she never thought about all the not so fun stuff vaginas go through. And then there’s all the stuff nobody ever tells you about labor and delivery until you’re pregnant, like:
“Hey, just as an aside, you’re going to take a shit on the table while you’re giving birth.”
Or
“Once you have a baby, you’ll pee a little every time someone makes you laugh.”
I don’t know why I never thought to carry a spare. Your daughter is a genius, even at 9, she was an inspiration.
Also, I don’t know why men are so uncomfortable saying vagina, they’re perfectly at home referencing their own genitalia at every turn.
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I think I ought to say here, I didn’t set out to terrify her. I just answered the questions that she asked on her level, and very matter of factly.
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Of course you didn’t terrify her, She wouldn’t be terrified until she met the speculum for the first time.
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No, not the speculum! That has got to have been invented by a man who hated women. There must be easier ways, or at least something nice to make one out of. Stainless steel? With a screw twist? Put in your fanny by a woman with appliqued puppies on her jumper? Give me a break. And once they bend to their task there is no way that you can jump off that bed and run away. I don’t know why security services (I nearly wrote cervixes there) bother with waterboarding. Just give em a box of rusty speculums .
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I’ve seen quite a bit on the medical atrocities committed during the second world war lately (j is a history buff), and I think it was invented then. The lovely Farmer Farthing says: clench your buttocks and think of England.
I have never heard anything so appropriate.
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Bugger England. Who is farmer farthing?
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You haven’t met Samantha, the keeper of the asylum over at Farmerfarthing.com? You should most certainly meet. I’d send a link, but I’m really bad at that sort of thing. She’s wordpress, just type in farmerfarthing in the little space for that sort of thing, and you’ll find her.
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She is also comment #1 on this post.
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How could I have missed her? Just been to have a look at her page.
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Your son could have only gotten his humor and perkiness from you.
I would have felt awkward, too, if it had happened to me as a mother :-). It was cute, though, because your young son was thinking he could tell you and show you anything. 😀
My son is already a 22-year-old adult, by the way.
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Oh no!!! Not another naptimethoughts! I kid, he’s very cute, and sweet. I’m glad he feels comfortable sharing with me, but next time I hope he shares and problems that might “pop up” with his father.
I have to say, though, swinging it around like a light saber was kind of cute. In a weird way.
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Our son’s way of describing his first boner was, “Hey, Mom, look! It’s hard . . . like a carrot!” Ah, men and their phalli. What are you gonna do? J’s swinging his lil light saber reminds me of a procedure I read about in a magazine. If a man isn’t satisfied with his endowment, doctors can snip the tendon at the base of his member, which basically gives him another inch, though what he thereafter sports looks a little low-slung. I told a friend about this snipping and he replied, “An inch? What would an inch do for me?” I said, “Heck, Jeff, it would double you.” Ha. Anyway, the procedure apparently has a drawback. Without that tendon, the pencil swings around quite a bit. So what you gain in length, you sacrifice in navigational control. Boy, I bet that’s more information than you wanted. Peace.
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Like a carrot! You must be proud.
I have to admit, I didn’t realize you all had navigational control in the first place. I thought it had two settings, on and off. Stiff and flaccid. hard and soft. So, can you use it like a car jack, and does that ability go away after the little snip snip?
I can’t imagine any man going through something like that for a measly inch. You should have seen what it took just to get the husband fixed, and they do that every day.
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I have no idea how I live with that thing either.
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Right? They either hang there, requiring frequent adjustment on the sly, and getting all sweaty and stinky in it’s pouch-thing, or it’s sticking straight up, with no other use than the use for which it’s used. Completely inconvenient. I don’t get it.
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*snort* I have two sons and husband and a male dog. My whole life is very peni-centric. At any given moment throughout my day, someone has their dong out. *sigh*
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They love bringing them out to show off. They’re obsessed with them, in whichever state they may be, in whatever moment happens to be the present. Nothing to do? Whip out the dong.
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I think many men wonder how women can live with something that bleeds periodically, yet is perfectly healthy for doing so. Of course, given that the alternative is not living — literally –with it, I guess we’re stuck.
Do you know why so many men name their penis? They hate the idea of taking orders from someone they’re not on a first-name basis with.
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That is a very simple question, to which any woman has the very same answer: We can’t. And if given the opportunity to trade that part of the anatomy in for something nicer, maybe with a few more creature comforts, we’d do it in a second. Nobody likes getting their period. It sucks, and it sucks for THE GREATER PORTION OF OUR LIVES. Then, after we stop with this monthly mess, we get to have MENOPAUSE. Trust me, you’d hate it too. The vagina is a beautiful thing, for like, a third of our lives. The rest of the time it sucks ass.
We put up with it because we have to, where men have intimate relationships with their penises, cuddle them at night, call them pet names and show them off, in the form of cars, trucks (if you’ve got a small one), boats, pilot licenses and powerful jobs.
Very different situations. Very different.
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Plus we can pee standing up (handy in nasty bathrooms), and we can write our name in the snow. I’ve been around enough women to be familiar with both the complaints and realities, and I do very much sympathize.
I suppose that men being endlessly fascinated by female genitals, but — by most accounts — women finding male genitals grotesque, is just a bitter icing on that cake. Factor in the love affair with chemically induced erections, and I’m not quite sure why women haven’t risen up in armed revolt.
Switching gears: How did you know I once owned a small truck? 😐
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I could do with peeing my name in the snow. That’s a handy trick, and the way things stand right now, that’s an awful lot of hovering while crouch-walking. Probably not my best penmanship.
We don’t necessarily find male genitalia disgusting, but you have to admit, the penis is much more function over fashion.
We don’t need to rise up in armed revolt. We’re the only sex living in the real world. Men live in their own worlds, which include only them, their penises, and occasionally work and a woman or another man. We run the rest of it. It’s a fair trade off, mostly.
Except for the bleeding. We could all do without that. I walked down a tampon aisle the other day, and found a red box marked “tampons”. I made a mental note that I would never insert into my body anything marked simply “tampons” in a red box. Obviously marketed by a man.
Sorry about your truck.
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