Not Exactly Johnny Appleseed

TRIGGER WARNING: If you are one of the 50% of the population equipped with a penis, you should probably stop reading right now. Trust me.

Okay, now that they're gone here goes.

When I cleaned out the bathroom closet an assortment of hand lotions wasn't the only thing I uncovered. I also found boxes and boxes of tampons. Most of them were almost empty, so it's not like I found thousands of tampons. Once I consolidated them it turned out to only be three boxes full.

The thing is, I didn't know what to do with them.

I mean, yeah, I know what to do with them, I just don't need to do that any more.

Thank God.

I don't know how many women root for menopause, but I did. I never understood the fixation with youth. Why is it better to be 20 than 40? What is wrong with being 50? Or 60? Why should I want to look like I'm waiting for somebody to ask me to prom until I die quietly surrounded by cats and empty butter tubs containing my collection of hair balls that look like celebrities?

So I had to figure out what to do with 3 boxes of mix-matched tampons. I didn't want to bug my family and friends about, shall we say, their personal business, and I didn't want to go door-to-door asking my neighbors if they're on the rag, to be a little more blunt.

With Halloween coming up I thought about covering them with spooky stickers and sneaking them out with the candy, but The Man said no. Something about holding his head up at the grocery store and the gas station. I mean, it's not like I would be passing out tooth brushes and travel sized toothpaste.

And those kids would be so hyped up on sugar they'd never remember where the tampons came from.

So, like the good, obedient wife I am, I came up with a Plan B.

I remembered how sweet it was when somebody busted into the tampon dispenser at work and the company where I worked at the time was too cheap to buy a new one. You could just reach in and grab whatever you needed whenever you needed it.

At least until the machine ran out.

So that's what I did.

No, I didn't break into the tampon dispenser and stuff mine inside it. As tempting as that idea was. What I did was bring a box in every week and leave it on top of the machine for any unfortunate employee that still experiences the Curse of Eve or whatever those religious nut-jobs call it. When the first one ran out I brought in the next one, and now they're all gone.

Of course, there were also some pads in with all the tampons, but I kept them. I read somewhere that they're good to keep in emergency kits. After all, their entire purpose in life is soaking up blood. Kind of a handy item to have in an emergency kit.

Plus, one of the exciting side-effects of menopause is enjoying a little unexpected tinkle. It's not like I pee my pants every time I turn around. I'm not quite ready for Depends yet, but sometimes I do get a little surprise if I sneeze or cough. It's nice to have some pads around in case I have the flu and know a coughing fit is on it's way.