Baby Sister, a new friend, and I had lunch at Kahuna Beach today. The tacos were wonderful! Talk turned from work to kids to hormones. The latter catagory took up most of lunch as we compared sweats, flashes and HRT. Seems that my own brand of relief from symptoms is made with horse urine. Now isn't that nice? Wonder who the guinea pig for THAT was? I can just imagine a bloated volunteer sitting in the doctor's office asking, "You're injecting me with whhhhaaattt???" You have to understand that when your ears are lighting up, you'll just about do anything to make it go away. The friend said that she went to the pharmacist and had him make up a synthetic concoction which barely worked but helped her drop the weight that the horse urine had packed on. She got off of it anyway after 20 years. Baby Sis won't take anything and prefers to just gut it out. Poor Baby Sis...poor brother-in-law!!
I'm wondering as I type this, where are all the brave men who faced this middle aged crisis before anyone could spell PMS? How did my grandfather deal with my grandmother when she was hot..........then cold..........then hot...then cold, then hot? What do you supposed Harry told Bess when she told him to turn the fan just on her? I admire these men who charted the course for understanding when their wives hit menopause. Today, women are doped up at the first sign of a temper tantrum and risk all sorts of bad things by medicating themselves through the change. We need men today who'll just stand up and let us slap the tar out of them! Are you out there?
2 comments:
Yes! I took 3 good slappings today! I am your huckleberry!
I've got the ultimate in ideas. This is what Harry did with Bess I'm sure. Induce a fever, she won't tell the difference, and the cure for that back then was horse milk.
So there. Don't think too much, you'll never figure it out anyway.
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