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<CENTER>[b]WHY WOMEN ARE CRABBY<CENTER>
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 callouses 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 anyway.
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 (equalled only by a another episode of childbirth prior to or after this one) all the way to the ER.
Then it's huff and puff and beg to die while the OB says, <font size="5">"PLEASE stop screaming Mrs. Hearmeroar.- calm down! </font> Just one more (or 10 ) good push," warranting a strong, well-deserved impulse to punch the SHIT outa doc and hubby, 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 little 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 thirties or early 40's while hubby had his somewhere around his 18th birthday.
NOW we hit the grand finale: "The Menopause," the Mother of all womanhood. It's either take the Harmone Replacement 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???
Now I love being a woman but "Womanhood" would make the Great Ghandi a tad crabby. Women are the "weaker sex"? Yeah right!
<CENTER><font size="5">BITE ME!!!</font>
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BITE ME TO!!
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***Giggle-Snort***
Good for you Lori.....I'll even step back and let 'em bite you first! [img]redface.gif[/img]
