Recently I went to my yearly girlie appointment (that's euphemistic, isn't it?) and while I could go on all day about the crazies I saw and the un-hinged mothers there ("My daughter needs to have a doctors signature on her HPV test! Now! Now! No, N.O.W.!!")....well...I won't. You get the idea.
While it wasn't the purpose of my visit, after a few basic questions my doctor immediately prescribed me some pills that would remind my body that it is, indeed, female. It isn't normal to go over three and a half months with nary a word from Auntie Flow, unless of course you're me, and then it's yesterday's news.
Later in the day I was telling Caleb about the visit and the 5 Magic Pills I'd picked up at the pharmacy (with a $10 co-pay, those babies are $2 a pop!) to get me goin', if you will.
"Isn't it crazy," he said in all seriousness, "that they have pills to basically trigger an auto-flush?"