I got this in an e-mail, so I thought I'd pass it on...
Why women are cranky.....
We start to "bud" in our blouses at 9 or 10 years old only to find anything
that comes in contact with those tender, blooming buds hurts so bad it
brings us to tears. Enter the almighty, uncomfortable training bra
contraption the boys in school will snap until we have calluses on our
backs. Next, we get our periods in our early to mid-teens (or sooner).
Along with those budding boobs, we now bloat, we cramp, we get the hormone
crankies, have to wear little mattresses between our legs or insert
tubular, packed cotton rods in places we didn't even know we had. Our next
little rite of passage (premarital or not) is having sex for the first time
which is about as much fun as having a ramrod push your uterus through your
nostrils (IF he did it right and didn't end up with his little cart before
his horse), leaving us to wonder what all the fuss was about. Then it's off
to Motherhood where we learn to live on dry crackers and water for a few
months so we don't spend the entire day leaning over Brother John. Of
course, amazing creatures that we are (and we are), we learn to live with
the growing little angels inside us steadily kicking our innards night and
day making us wonder if we're having Rosemary's Baby.
Our once flat bellies now look like we swallowed a watermelon whole and we
pee our pants every time we sneeze. When the big moment arrives, the dam in
our blessed Nether Regions will invariably burst right in the middle of the
mall and we'll waddle with our big cartoon feet moaning in pain all the way
to the ER. Then it's huff and puff and beg to die while the OB says,
"Please stop screaming, Mrs. In-Labor. Calm down and push. Just one more
(10 more) good push," warranting a strong, well-deserved impulse to punch
someone square in the nose for making us cram a wiggling, mushroom-headed
10lb. bowling ball through a keyhole. After that, it's time to raise those
angels only to find that when all that "cute" wears off, the beautiful
little darlings morph into walking, jabbering, wet, gooey, snot-blowing,
life-sucking little poop machines.
The teen years. Need I say more? The kids are almost grown now and we women
hit our voracious sexual prime in our mid-30's to early 40's while man had
his somewhere around his 18th birthday (which just happens to be the reason
all that early hot man sex got you pregnant in the first place). Now we hit
the grand finale: "The Menopause," the Grand- mother of all womanhood. It's
either take the HRT and chance cancer in those now seasoned "buds" or the
aforementioned Nether Regions, or, sweat like a hog in July, wash your
sheets and pillowcases daily and bite the head off anything that moves.
Now, you ask WHY women seem to be more spiteful than men when men get off
so easy INCLUDING the icing on life's cake: Being able to pee in the woods
without soaking their socks? I love being a woman (call me crazy), but
"Womanhood" would make the Great Gandhi more spiteful!!! And
they say women are the "weaker sex". HA!!!!
Jan 2, '03
Oh no that was depressing....all the stuff I have to look forward to...