Saturday, March 12, 2011

Dear Uterus:

We have had our disagreements in the past.  Truth be told, we don't actually get along all that well...kind of like Democrats and Republicans.  I blame it on your incessant need to tantrum every month or so despite the fact that you won't live up to your purpose and do your part (along with your hyperactive ovary cousins) to help me be a carrier of life.  And while I've come to accept that you'll never function properly, I will not stand for this abuse.  Spending days wasted on hard core pain killers might sound like fun to Charlie Sheen...but the druggy haze makes it hard for me to walk in heels.    Knock it off or so help me you and your ugly cousins will find yourselves at the bottom of a hazardous waste bin faster than Ryan Seacrest goes through a bottle of hair gel.

The end.

4 comments:

Faye said...

I am so sorry you are hurting. I wish I could use some "mommy magic" and make it better but that only worked until you were 4 or 5...

Time for a hot bath follwed by the heating pad and meds...and a chick flick.

(((Hugs))))

.:Bree:. said...

I know you're dead serious, but I just laughed out loud. Hard. This post reminded me of yesterday morning. The "tantrum" was late and oh so severe.
Hope you get feeling better soon!!! xoxo

Amanda said...

Pretty much my favorite post ever. That's all. Muah.

Sheila said...

I love the new name "tantrum". I'm totally calling it that from now on. :)