Whatever motivated my mother to share her epic stories of stupidity, I don’t know, but it seems to be genetic. I seem to get no joy unless I share some stupid shit I just did with the nearest person. I don’t know why. If you find it entertaining, that rocks. My apologies to the gents for the subject matter, I won’t be getting to deep into it (pun intended).
My mom usually used tampons, but for whatever reason had been using maxi-pads during one particular day, perhaps it was a backup. I know not the occasion, perhaps a stuck-up family reunion. I know we were somewhere in which dressing up was required and she was uncharacteristically in a dress and heels. I just remember the looks of immense pain that crossed her face not too long after a trip to the bathroom, all while shaking hands and hugging and trying to make idle chitchat. At the first opportunity, she ducked backed into the bathroom. It was a while before I noticed she hadn’t returned, so I went to linger around the area so I could spot her when she came out.
When she finally came out, she looked a little like she had been crying but seemed immensely relieved as well. This is when she informed me she’d accidentally put her maxi-pad on upside down and didn’t even notice until after she’d pulled on her underpants and hose….you know, to really make sure it adhered to every scrap of hair on this especially sensitive area….she just couldn’t bring herself to rip it off and had spent the last, god-knows-how-long trying to slowly pry it off her crotch.
I don’t think she ever bought another maxi pad.