January 19, 2007
I have boxes of them: unused, unopened, sitting on my dusty Shelf of Mid-Life. I keep these boxes even though I had my ovaries removed three years ago. My mother taught me to be prepared for any emergency, so I am, even if that emergency might also be declared a freak of nature.
We're all adults here, so you know what I'm talking about. These boxes come from the "feminine hygiene" aisle in the store, an aisle that men avoid like ... well, like the feminine hygiene aisle in the store. That is until they fall deeply in love, and then they will trudge down that aisle with a hastily scribbled shopping list in spite of their grave misgivings.
In my youth, my menstrual cycle was as accurate as a Swiss watch. People could mark their calendars by it, and there were many co-workers and family members who did just that in self-defense. But those last few years before it went away, it had all the predictability of a Guatemalan mountain bus. It was likely to show up before I was packed for the trip, or I'd just miss it and be waiting in the sticky tropical heat for weeks, peering down the road and wondering if it would ever come again.
Now I'm done with all that, but — ever-practical person that I am — I keep wondering what use I might find for my boxes of womanly accouterments other than offering them to a weepy stepdaughter or younger sister when they're surprised and unprepared while visiting my house.
I have come up with some ideas:
Sweat bands. Put pads around your wrist and use the tape to keep them in place. Then you can raise your arm and dab away the sweat on yourself or on anyone else passing by who's just too sweaty for their own good.
Insoles. I normally wear insoles the size of a small recreational vehicle, but some tight shoes don't allow for it. So I have taken to cutting a pad to my arch size and using the tape on the back to keep it where my arch will sit. All of my dress shoes look like they're having their period.
Christmas ornaments. Cover the tampon with glue and roll it in sparkles. Who needs ornament hooks? Handy strings included.
Earrings. See above. No need for pierced ears.
Stuffed toys. Glue a couple of tiny ears and eyes on a tampon, and it's Tampy! He's soft and absorbent and fits in your pocket! And he's disposable! You can flush him down the toilet just like a dead pet fish.
Shoulder pads. Shoulders droop approximately a quarter-inch a year until they completely disappear and become part of your spine. Need a boost? Cut a pad in two and tape them on the inside of your shirt when you have the urge to look like you're going to a "Dynasty" cast party.
This list is endless. The boxes are waiting. Must run ...
Comments
amazonratz (anonymous) says...
Tampy the pocket pal! What a scream. This is very fun. Thanks for the laugh.
January 26, 2007 at 1:13 p.m. ( permalink | suggest removal )
julesvlive (anonymous) says...
Pat - my daughter was at Girl Scout camp years ago on an overnight campout. They experienced a very wet & rainy night. A maxipad worked beautifully as a fire starter! Jules :)
February 1, 2007 at 4 p.m. ( permalink | suggest removal )
WordyKris (anonymous) says...
Funny stuff but here's a real and valuable use. When I was on that "exit ramp" of using these products, I had to keep them handy for those unexpected appearances, so I had maxipads in the car, in my desk, in my purse and at home. One day, sitting in my car, I cut my finger badly opening a package (don't even ask). It was one of those you know instantly is a bleeder so I grabbed a tissue and wrapped it tight and watched it bleed through in about 2 seconds. That's when I got inspired and reached into my purse, pulled out an individually wrapped maxi, opened it up and wrapped it around my finger. Way more absorbent than a guaze pad but designed to soak up...uh...a lot. The triage nurse at the ER snickered but admired the capacity of my bandage. Although my "will I or won't I" days are long gone, I am still never without those maxis for first aid purposes - they are the best!
February 2, 2007 at 8:50 a.m. ( permalink | suggest removal )
Post a comment
Commenting requires registration.