My vagina is bleeding.  My uterine wall is shedding and slowly oozing out of my body as we speak.  Yeah.  You don’t like that visual.  Well fuck you.  I am going to come to your house while you are sleeping, plug your nose, and just as you start to gasp for air I am going to fart in your mouth and leave a trail of my blood on your chin.

In some cultures, when women suffer from their moon menses flow they are shuffled off to a hut, and told to stay there for the next 7-days to bleed on a rock.  That makes sense to me.  I don’t see why I have to interact with society in such a state.  I would much rather flap around and flail in my own juices secluded in a dark room.

For instance my brain is not functioning as well because it has no blood pumping through it.  As such, when I went to buy my stupid hippy drink at the overpriced pretentious organic store today, I totally forgot that I had already opened it to take a sip…. So when I was at the register, I absentmindedly shook my open drink.  Ginger juice flew into the air, covered me, all my other groceries, the conveyer belt, and of course, the woman running the register.  I tried to explain it was an accident, but I was laughing too hard and I just looked like a crazy person who was doing some weird terrorist vigilante work.

And everyone thinks science is soooo smart with nature and how it works and blah, blah, blah. Well what kind of fucktard thought of having women riding the crimson wave still having to take care of their kids?  May I remind you that being patient is a key ingredient to be a good parent towards an irrational, crazy, demanding two-year old… and something about leaking out my lady parts makes me feel quite the opposite.

So when I was giving The Munch her bath she decided to throw one of her stupid babies at my face.  Keep in mind this was quite a luxurious bath.  I was reading to her, she had all her toys, and I had even put some bubbles in it.  So for her to throw her fucking baby at my face was really not cool.  So what did I do? I took that baby and I bit the head right off her body.  And then I laughed demonically as I chewed that plastic face looking Munch right in the eye.

No.

I didn’t really do that.  Not because I am a good person, but I didn’t think to do that in the moment because of my afore mentioned lack of brainpower.  So instead I did the incredibly imaginative approach of taking the baby away and saying I wasn’t going to read the book anymore.

“Nooooooooooooo!! Waaaaaahhhh Wahhhhhhha! Mamma!! Read the book! Mamma! I want tiny baby!”

“Munch, you can have tiny baby back, and I will read the book once you say sorry for throwing the baby at my face.”

“Nooooooooooooo! Wahhhhhhhh… Waaaaaaaaaah! I am not sorry!”

Okay….

So now I am in a pickle.  Munch is crying because she wants her tiny baby, and she wants me to read her dumb book.  But I said she can’t have these things until she says she is sorry.  Yet she is not sorry.  But I can’t back down now.  I already created a condition.  I don’t want her thinking I am a pussy.

So we went back and forth like this 6 times!!!!!!!!

Her saying she wants tiny baby and for me to read the book.  Me saying only once she apologizes.  I wanted to give up so badly.  She was being so annoying, and in my sensitive state I almost drowned myself.

But then….

“I am sorry Mamma.”

Thank Goddess Munch is a girl and intuitively understands the feminine foibles and the need to sometimes give Mamma a break.