There comes a time (usually once a month) in every woman’s life where she is crippled by the pain of her babybox and the demons that reside therein. This was my case yesterday as I was making dinner (ya know- being domestic and stuff) for B. Something had been awakened and was cutting me open from the inside out - or so it seemed. Really though, and while I’m sure my menstrual cramps are fascinating to you all - let’s get to the point: B handles periods better than any man ever in the history of the world. Let me tell you why:
+B spent a good hour finishing dinner - and refused to let me help. “You need to rest” he would say.
+He set me up on the couch w/ our most recent Netflix addiction and took care to heat up my rice bag every 10-15 minutes for the entire night.
+ Promptly following dinner - ice cream and sour patch kids were delivered to said couch.
+B laughs instead of being grossed out when I tell him things like, “I feel like I’m going to throw up my uterus”
+Intermittent back massages.
+ Words like, “Let me hold you”
So why am I telling you this? Because B is the best and totally brag-worthy, that’s why. I am so blessed to have married my best friend and a bonafide saint. Also- there is a slight chance a male might read this, and for the benefit of women everywhere, take notes guys. That’s how it’s done ^^^.
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