Clean up on aisle two-ooo-eewww
So. I’m having a bit of, well, feminine spotting. You know, light. Just needed a little Lightdays. All well and good. Except I don’t wear undies. Nothing kinky going on, just that I HATE thongs, and I hate the way panties bunch, and the lines, so commando just makes sense. Until you think that the Lightdays will stay affixed to the crotch of the jeans you are wearing. And then you’re running through the grocery with your three children, trying to make it home in time to cook the St. Patrick’s Day Irish Stew that must cook four hours, and it’s already after two, and then you feel something odd on tickling downwards on your leg. And in the next two steps you see your pad on the floor of the grocery store, one step behind you in the Mexican and Ethnic aisle. And, you’re not the only one in the Mexican and Ethnic aisle. And you can’t just leave it there. That would be disgusting. You have to stop, in front of people looking oddly at you, and pick up the pad. And act like it is no big deal. You routinely drop menstrual pads out the leg of your pants. Yeah. No biggie. What a beautiful memory.
Fortunately, the pad was clean. That helped a lot. And oh yeah. The luck o’ Irish to ye.
