P for Periods

But if there is a time I never want to be around her is during that time of the month. I never want to but I have to. Like the itching ball you don’t want to scratch in public but have to. Besides, come on, safe days won’t go to waste just like that. So it happened, like any other day the visitors arrived unannounced.

It’s that moment, you’re both sprawled in bed, your sweaty bodies slowly adjusting to reality. No one is speaking to the other. She’s not the type that asks ‘What are we?’ after she almost broke your appendix reverse cow-girling.

The silence seems perpetual and you’re just there in body while the spirit floats in space. You’re hurtling past Jupiter, traveling against time close to 4 billion light years back to witness the big bang theory as it happens. 

Her yelling jolts you to reality. You begrudgingly drift back into consciousness, back to the chrysalis humans call a body. She won’t understand a thing cause it’s been like 5 seconds here. You find her staring at you with the disapproving eyes of a preacher, disgruntled by his bored inattentive congregation that forgot to say “Amen!” to his zealous sermon; except they didn’t forget, they weren’t listening. She said something that you didn’t hear.

You stare back blankly unsure what the hell is going on. Then follows the inevitable question you expected but dreaded, “What are you thinking?”

Guys, you know the answer to that already? NOTHING.

She thinks you’re lying. Lakini, what else do we expect from people who take a screenshot of themselves on their status from her friend’s status only to post it on her status and tag the friend to screenshot and post it on her side, huh?

Kwanza Bubu considers herself my voodooist, she will throw a life threatening claim like “Your eyes tell me something different. I know when you’re lying to me….Hey, don’t look away, look at me” You would think my eyes are the Encyclopedia of Common Lies. 

Thing is, she’s the last person I’d want to lie to but she doesn’t believe the fact that I can literally think of nothing. She throws tantrums as usual and it will take more than cuddling to calm her down.

Next day, the visitors are here with us and early in the morning, before I even confirm I’m alive, she sends me to get pads. The audacity! I don’t want her repeating her command (actually it’s trouble I don’t want) so I hurriedly do as she says. Now isn’t the time to vex her demons. On my way to the door, she categorically says not to get her the brand Always. 

Coooooome on! Guys, do you know any other type of pad apart from Always? Honestly. It’s the only one I know of. You know, from the only sanitary towel adverts I’ve seen: 8 hours ultra whatever. At first I thought she was bluffing but no! Her face seems to be casually saying she could hit my face with a shovel any moment now. I set out on my quest not before she again categorically tells me to look for red and white branded pads, I couldn’t grasp the name. That’s the one she wants.

I saunter into the supermarket, stroll to the ladies’ section, trying desperately to pretend I’m a lady, and pick myself the first thing that looks red and white. Aaah, man I feel proud. I don’t know why but it damn feels good; the exact opposite of how I felt the day I went to a chemist this early, still because of her but for a totally different reason and product. Story for another day.

I get back excited af! I taunt her a little then proudly hand her the package. Without as much as a semblance of warning she throws the thing at me with such force that I’m glad it isn’t the coffee mug she is holding in her hands.

Okay, now what? Apparently I bought panty liners, whatever those things are. Aaaaaah seriously!!!

Head bowed, I walked back into the mart, and this time to be sure, I sought the advice of one of the ladies and timidly explained to her that my life depended on what I was going to take home. Anha! This time I got it right, and insults were served as dessert on getting home.

You talk back to her, she gives you those puppy eyes, “Mbona unanishoutia?” You keep quiet, you are already bored with her. You go cuddle, she is growling. You don’t go near her, you are ashamed of her. This descendant of Eve! And it’s like this once a month. Her body accidentally hits caps lock on all her emotions.

For guys I feel we don’t understand. Them being emotional doesn’t mean they’re acting childish. Them being in pain doesn’t mean they’re just seeking attention. They’re most vulnerable so for this one week, don’t try to understand her. Be there for her. Be it the forehead kisses, favorite chocolate bar, tummy rubs.

Don’t let me advise you, you know your person better. If she wants octopus soup, just get her that. Plus hey, it’s proven the birds and the bees also help. Who doesn’t love a strawberry milkshake?

It’s now 8 pm. Like the queen she is, she has issued a decree that nothing will go on in the house unless her cravings are satiated by yours truly. It’s a shame if you think she craves chocolate or ice cream.

Hormones are a B****.

Bubu sent me out to get her something. Who knows where I can get gummy- bears, urgently? I still need a place to sleep tonight. 

©Rock