Men of a Certain Age May Not Want to Read This

October 9, 2013

Men, consider yourselves warned. We are going to be talking about the delicate issue of (drumroll, please) feminine hygiene products. Men of a more delicate constitution may want to avert their eyes.

I am not a tampon girl. Never have been. Don’t see a time that I ever will be. To use the description provided by Kristi, one of my Rome Center classmates, I’m an ultra thin girl. (Kristi, on the other hand, preferred a different product. And to quote the four male classmates with whom we were traveling: “How do you know these things about each other?!?!?” Of course we knew what every girl on our hallway used!) To me the greatest innovations in feminine hygiene have occurred in my lifetime. First came wings. And then came ultra thin pads. This does mean that today ultra thin pads with wings are pretty standard. Which means there are choices. Which means I don’t want anybody else to buy my pads for me. Chances are high that someone else will by the Wrong Ones. And all the women out there reading this know exactly what I mean. There is nothing worse than having the Wrong Ones. Now, my Wrong Ones are going to be different from someone else’s, and that’s fine. They can wear those pads or tampons. And if I’m caught somewhere and I’m desperate, I’ll use them. But don’t clutter up my bathroom with them.

Now I planned ahead. I stopped at Walgreens before I went into labor so that I would have the Right Ones on hand and wouldn’t have to risk someone else buying the Wrong Ones for me. And in my preferred brand, Walgreens had Almost The Right Ones. But Almost The Right Ones are still the Wrong Ones. But I was really pregnant, and I didn’t not feel like shopping around, so I decided that Almost The Right Ones were close enough. And, yes, Almost The Right Ones were fine, but when I started running low, I was determined not to buy them again, so I didn’t even look at Walgreens for the Right Ones. And since we were stopping at Harding’s to pick up another head of cabbage (yes, that cabbage), I figured I’d just pick up some there. And you know what? They didn’t even have Almost The Right Ones. All they had were the Wrong Ones. My choices were the wrong brand or not ultra thin. Wrong on so many levels… Fortunately, I hadn’t run out yet. Help me, Frederick Meijer’s store, you’re my only hope… I mean, we can all see the potentialities…

Small Child: Mommy, why is that lady wearing cabbage and clutching a baby blanket crying?

Mother: Look away, darling, look away.

Of course, the lady wearing cabbage and clutching the baby blanket was crying because she couldn’t find anyone who carried her effing pads.

But that didn’t happen. Meijer came through, as it always usually does. Plus I didn’t wear the cabbage in public. And even when I do carry Sofia’s receiving blanket with me, I usually leave it in the car. And if it’s not in the car, it’s in my bag. In other words, if I’m carrying the blanket, you probably don’t know that I am.

But I digress. Meijer not only had the Right Ones, but the Right Ones were on sale. And I found them before I’d run out and had to buy more of the Wrong Ones.

P.S. Yes, I do realize that truly the greatest innovation in feminine hygiene products occurred before I was born. And that would be pads that have adhesive. Thanks, SNL, I’ll pass on Kotex Classic.

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5 Comments

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5 responses to “Men of a Certain Age May Not Want to Read This

  1. And then there are those fickle companies who have the NERVE to CHANGE the right ones to make them wrong ones! Oh the agony when that happens…

  2. Jo

    I left OBs behind and went to the diva cup. Maybe you didn’t need to know that. I mean, I’ve heard that some people use those.

    • I know other people who find the diva cup to be the Right One. My periods were always so heavy that it wouldn’t have worked for me. And I definitely didn’t want something like that to go with my stitches after birth! But I want to reiterate: to each her own Right One.

  3. Maria

    When you say “lady wearing cabbage” I envision a green version of Lady Gaga’s infamous meat dress. You’d look like Sprout from Green Giant!

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