Tuesday, August 9, 2011
"Here you go dear! Congratulations!!"
My sister and I had a funny conversation last night about growing up having periods in my house. That's right. Periods. "Menstruation" for all you medical technocrats out there...Let's cut to the chase, shall we?
I highly doubt many women look back at their younger days of getting their period with starry eyes...fondly remembering running through fields of wildflowers...maybe even taking up gymnastics...Cathy Rigby apparently did all kinds of bendy, flippity do dah shit while she was on the rag. No...And for as bad as any of my female readers remember the ordeal? I'm convinced my experience was worse.
So I finally get 'it' and my mother was giddy. Aside from feeling creeped out by her saying "I can't wait to tell your dad! You finally got 'it'!" I was equally mortified when she handed me a package of maxi pads. You may be thinking of those thick maxi pads. Those qualified as mini pads at my house. My sisters and I were sentenced to wear Micro Mattresses.
I don't even know to this day where she bought them...probably wholesale...bulk...They were awful. Weren't even name brand like "Kotex" or "Always"...Just a generic looking puke pink packaging with a lazily drawn daisy on the front...likely drawn by a woman wearing the same pads she was helping promote...poor gal.
Anyway, I had to use them. Besides, it was only for a few days...How bad could it be?
I quickly learned the trick to a successful period was to remain as stealthy about it as possible. These pads made that task next to impossible. You see, as my sister will also attest to, they made a weird "Crinkle crinkle" noise as we walked. Like crumpling plastic. In my head it sounded like clanging pots and pans...I imagined scenarios of a guy I liked saying something like "Hey everybody! Listen to that racket! Trina must be on her period! hahahahahaha!"..
As I roamed the hallways of my school, I felt as though it was so loud that I had to talk louder than normal for a few days to mute the noise. "HOW ARE YOU?" I'd yell to my classmates...praying no one could hear the dreaded sound.
And for as thick as these pads were? They didn't guarantee protection against accidents. Thankfully I didn't experience what my sister did on her school bus when she stood to leave. A girl pointed to her ass and screamed, "OH MY GOD! SHE GOT HER PERIOD!!!"
No...I took measures to ensure that would never happen to me...so I invented what I can best describe as a Maxi Train..three pads. One in the center, one in the rear practically covering my ass crack, and another in front extending an inch below my navel...This ensured zero clothing penetration even though from behind I likely had the equivalent of an elderly person's ass. Fuck it...
As I entered high school I realized all my friends had forgone the torturous experience of wearing pads and had moved on to tampons. So I approached my mom about it. "Those are for girls who are having sex, Trina. You can't have them." End of discussion. "We'll just see about that mother." was my thought as she gave her blunt reply...as though tampons were sex toys...Satanic...meant only for sluts engaged in sexual debauchery.
Life did get much easier when I finally rebelled and bought Satan's Period Protection on my own. Easier to hide too given I didn't need a beach tote to carry them in. Never did tell my sister my secret...
Somebody needed to finish that box of pads after all....