On the way back from the beach yesterday. Two moms on the front seat, two teenage kids at the back.
Kids singing some random song, completely out of tune and loud.
Mom1: Can you please tone it down a little? Mom 2 and I are trying to have a conversation.
Kids’ ears flap. Moms’ conversation, they are sure, would be something they can crib about later. E.g. “moms don’t know how to have fun, you know?”. “Moms are so jealous of anyone who has fun, that they have to get on our case if we laugh ” . (Actual quotes we have overheard in the past few days).
Mom 2: I haven’t gotten my periods in three months now. I wonder if I have menopaused.
Mom1: Lucky you. You can set the calendar by me.
Mom 2: I wonder if I am really that lucky. Maybe when it comes, it will finally kill me.
Mom 1: More likely. At least, when you are dead, you won’t get periods anymore.
Mom 2: I am not sure. My ghost will probably get PMS.
Kid 1: May be we are better off singing.
Mom 2: Don’t behave like you guys don’t know what we are talking about. Especially considering how crabby you guys get before your period.
Mom 1: You know how they throw parties and have celebrations for menarche*? We must have a celebration for menopause you know..makes more sense.
Mom 2: What do you mean we must have a celebration for menopause? We must have a kick-ass party. You know, invite all menopausal/perimenopausal women, have a big feast, dancing, singing, new clothes, drinking..the works.
Mom 1: And banners. “Take that, uterus”.
Mom 2: “Die, ovaries”
Mom 1: “Hormones to hell”
Mom 2: “Vale, vaginal vagaries”
Mom 1: “Cheerio Cramps”
Kid 2: You know how moms think we are crazy?…
Mom 2: And we can have a cake shaped like uterus.
Mom 1: With red icing
Mom 2: And not cut it, but each of us gets a knife and stabs it
The kids are stunned to silence until we reach home.
Later in the night, mom 1 gets a message from mom2: “Got my P :(”
Mom 1: What? No party then?
Mom 2: More time to plan.
What can I say? We are glass-half-full people.
* In India, a girl’s menarche is traditionally celebrated on a grand scale – feasting and all. It still is among many families.
Edited to add: A dear cousin wrote back saying “why so much hatred for the uterus? Without it, you two would not have had your kids”. I feel partly combative, but also bad. Thirty odd years of pain and PMS shebang (the other mom in this conversation faints every period with pain, and I go through dark mental periods every month) seems like a steep price to pay for reproduction, considering that the other half of the procreationist gets away scott free. That said, I’d face any pain all over again, and again, and all my life, for my kid. If I have inadvertently hurt anyone by this post, I am sorry. I considered deleting this post, but realised that that would be escapist. I own these thoughts. They may be wrong, but they are mine.