Free Uterus to good home…

Free to good home: one slightly used uterus. In very good condition,  has grown, carried and delivered four fat, healthy babies. Well maintained and regularly serviced,  starts first time. Would suit woman looking for slightly less flash but highly reliable and structurally sound birthing apparatus. Comes complete with flawless fallopian tubes and mildly excitable ovaries.

Wouldn’t it be nice to be able to pass our reproductive organs on to someone who really needs them? I am already an organ donor, so they can take whatever they like once I’ve finished with them – it’s being the ultimate recycler.  Mind you, my motivations in regards to getting rid of my uterus are not purely altruistic. After thirty years, I’m a bit over it, and there’s still up to another ten to go.

On the supermarket shelves, the selection of feminine hygiene products is overwhelming and only outdone by the variety of Yoghurts and Breakfast cereals available. The biggest question is: to wing or not to wing?  Will a flightless pad put me at a disadvantage?

I tried a new brand recently and was shocked at how big it was.  My three year old’s nappy pants are smaller.  I felt ridiculous walking around with something the size of a placemat stuck to my panties. Who designs these things? Didn’t someone at that production meeting look at the prospective pad and go “Faaaaark! This is humungous! Who are we designing these for, Princess Fiona?”

No doubt my husband would be much happier if my PMP (Pre-menstrual psychosis)  went away. I wouldn’t be snappy, short tempered, exhausted or demolish his hidden chocolate supply once a month.

I’d also be available for sex more often.  The  ‘Sorry, I’m broken’ excuse would be irrelevant.  I’d have to have more headaches.

I’m sure that the other four males in our house would also welcome a calmer, less volatile mummy every four weeks. In that respect I am very glad that  I have sons because they just punch each other up every now and then. Imagine five women with synced periods – Jason would have to build himself a man cave for protection.

I could wear white 365 days a year if I wanted to, instead of hibernating in my dark, loose  ‘period’ clothes, and  could get rid of my sensible ‘period undies’ and only wear sexy underwear all the time.

Mind you, it was a great excuse all the way through secondary school to get out of class.

Me: “Mr Teacher, I don’t feel very well. I think I need to go to sick bay.”
Mr Teacher:  “You look all right to me. We’re taking a very important test today. I really think you need to be in class.”
Me:  “No, really sir. I don’t feel well,” clutching my stomach to counter his initial resistance.

Mr Teacher: “NO, Sarah. You’ll just have to weather it out. You’re just trying to avoid the work and the test. It’s not good enough. Everyone needs to be here today. It’s most important, your entire academic career could depend on it.”
Me: “Sir, I have my period.”
Mr Teacher: “Right then, pack up and off you go,” he says as the colour drains from his face, he loses  eye contact and uncontrolled muscle spasms leave him looking as though he’s about to adopt the fetal position.

In fact, whenever you want to shut a conversation down immediately with a man, just mention the word ‘period’ and he’ll not know what to do with himself. It should be a legal defence.

“How does the accused plead?”
“Menstruating, your honour.”

“Case dismissed.”

For close to forty years of our lives, most women will have to put up with painful, irregular, and surprise periods, back aches, stomach cramps, migranes and headaches.  If you use tampons and pads instead of a femme cup, you will pay out over  four thousand dollars for sanitary protection during your life time. Therefore, it’s fair that we should be able to use it to our advantage every now and then.


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