On Friday I was tired and I wanted pudding. Tobias had been in Moscow the night before and had yet to return home, the wonderful babysitter was in London for a long weekend, and I was unaccustomed to pulling night diaper/nurturing duty in addition to full-day diaper/nurturing duty. So, with the two little darlings sleeping simultaneously at last, I made and ate chocolate pudding in the 45 minutes before my mother-in-law’s late Friday evening arrival from south Germany. And just as I was thinking, ‘You didn’t use that time to make up the guest bed and/or get dinner ready? Why so passive aggressive, Bets?’ – just as I was thinking that – my period started. That’s right, folks, 7 short weeks after giving birth (and also 15 short months after giving birth,) and while breastfeeding full time, my period started. ‘Cause you know what I need right now? PMS. And an additional bodily fluid to deal with. And also to get pregna… ack I can’t even type it.
Dear My Body,
This letter is in response to your recent question, artfully posed as a period. Much as I love a good pun, and a punctuation pun at that, the answer is no. Or, rather, NO. THE ANSWER IS NO. As in, I Am Immune to Your Ovulatory Charms NO. As in, The Countdown to Menopause Begins Now NO. As in, We Have A Vasectomy Appointment Friday NO.
I hope this won’t make things awkward between us.
p.s. I do find your confidence in me completely charming. The answer is still no.