If I was going to invent something for the good of mankind I know exactly what it would be: a pill for men that would let them experience all of our worst PMS symptoms.
I don’t know if your husband does it to you, ladies, but when it’s that time of month for me mine can’t understand why I’m tried, why I hurt, or why I suffer such extreme mood swings.
It’s understandable. It’s human nature. You can’t possibly know how bad something is until you’ve endured it yourself.
Well, with PMS men have absolutely no way of ever experiencing that except vicariously through the women in their lives. And that’s just externally. That’s not the full throttle hormone ride we enjoy on a monthly basis.
But imagine a pill that delivered all of Aunt Flow’s punches to them? Emotional and physical.
It would come in varying degrees, from mild to severe, to imitate the myriad symptoms we have. Because I know friends who wouldn’t really benefit from such a pill since they are lucky and have very few PMS symptoms.
I’ve had other friends, however, who are completely wiped out by that time of the month. They suffer such extreme pain they miss work and are laid up in bed for days.
Then there are the women like me. I hurt, but not to the point I can’t come out and play at all. The cramps are feisty and the mood swings intense, but they’re somewhat manageable even if they’re not all that pleasant.
But in all our married life I’ve never been able to make Wayne understand that when the worst of it hits, I need my Advil, a heating pad, a cup of tea and a nap to help me get back on track. He thinks it’s all in my head.
So that’s why I dream of developing a man PMS Sympathy Pill. After I perfected it I’d work on a Labor Pain Sympathy Pill and an Everyday Life Sympathy Pill (so they’d understand just how many things we juggle during our long days compared to them).
The trouble is, I fear my plan would backfire. Instead of making them understand what we go through so they’d be more sympathetic, it’d be my luck to give Wayne the pill and he’d expect me to cater to him.
“Bring me the heating pad. Get me another Advil. Tuck me in for my nap.”
Somehow I’d have to work a “no whining, suck it up” sequence into the formula…
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