Warning: This Post Is About My Period and Other Girl Things.
The toilet is a weird place to be when you start crying. Usually it’s a place strictly reserved for business, so doing anything else while you’re sitting there just seems off. Crying, though, seems to be the one of the weirder things you could do on the toilet.
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A little girl starts her period for the first time.
The part-time nurse asks, “Has your mom talked to you about this at all?”
The girl nods. Yes.
The part-time nurse says, “Is your stomach hurting?”
The girl nods again. Yes.
The part-time nurse asks, “Is there anyone that can come pick you up?”
A third nod. Yes. “My sister,” she says in her thick Spanish accent.
The phone is dialed; the sister answers.
“What’s wrong?” she wants to know, noting how unusual it is for the little girl to call home sick during the school day.
“Oh,” says the girl, “You know.”
“No,” the sister explains, she doesn’t know.
Then the little girl musters up the courage to say the one sentence that she needs to say. Hand cupped over the receiver, a nervous glance around the room. Then she says into the phone, “I got ‘the dot.’”
This post actually is about my period. It won’t be as bad as my last post about my period, but I still thought I’d give fair warning. You know, in case you adventurous boys who barreled on last time wanted to go ahead and stop here. If you want to keep on keeping on, the good stuff’s after the jump…