Why women can't do star jumps
Dear Regular Guy,
Having had two lovely children, things downstairs aren't quite the same as they once were. Why can't my man accept that I need padded technology in my pants on a daily basis, not just on ‘no games week.' He acts like I'm some kind of leper just because I can't run for the bus without things getting soggy.
Dear Mrs. Pelvic,
Tricky one to answer this. Especially as I became sick twice, reading the question.
Being sent to restock your lady's Tena pad collection is the only thing that is worse than having to buy her Tampax. It sends chills right through to my core.
I have had to do this in the past. Let's discuss that no further.
What women go through to produce our offspring is unbelievable. The stress and the strain they put on their bodies defies all logic and reason. I wonder if the human race would be so thoroughly re-stocked if women truly understood the complexity of the trauma they would face by producing life.
If they really understood that having a baby does considerably more harm to them than an imagined half hour with a sore undercarriage in a maternity ward, would they be quite so keen?
Nine months of ever increasing discomfort and stretch mark creating weight-gain. Contractions, labour, groups of men and women sticking their arms up you like a dairy farmer's vet. Stitches in places nobody should ever be visiting with a needle in their hand, nipples torn away from ridiculously engorged, never to be what they once were, breasts. Hips big enough to park a bus in.
And worst of all. You can no longer do star-jumps.
The list of pain, change and suffering that you ladies endure to provide us men with proof of fertility could go on for quite some time. Meanwhile we just have to put up with a bit of earache. That's all.
And they say you are the weaker sex!
If young wives truly understood all of that, if they really did know what they were letting themselves in for, I do wonder if they'd be a little happier giving blow jobs? Anything that reduces the risk of them getting pregnant would surely be preferable? Actually I may have to patent that idea: just as things are heating up in the bedroom and the signs are pointing to sex being on the cards, I think it might just be worth whipping out a list and some diagrams of the dangers of pregnancy and how these can be reduced by going oral. It might just work!*
To return to your problem; I have to say that I'm just not sure mankind will ever be ready to accept as okay that you occasionally forget to unpeel those winged wonders from your underwear before you throw them into the laundry basket, thus meaning that we eventually find it in the arm of our shirts when we pull them out the tumble dryer.
This will never be okay. Ever.