A while back I decided it would be good fun to write a series of shorts based on my exploits in the local grocery store. So many ridiculous things happening there, wouldn’t you agree? Well, this next piece addresses the current shortage in feminine products, so I invite you read and laugh alongside me or pass on this one at your own discretion.
I put on my high-waisted, big girl panties because my phone just dinged to tell me it was soon to be my time of the month, which means today I am going to have to brave the feminine product aisle at my local grocery store. Not sure how things are in your part of the world, but right now in Northern Virginia this aisle is a ghost town. Row after row of dusty shelf. Nothing left but the mockery of old sale signs. They say shipments are sparse, and female products are on the short list. Sure, cut back on Kotex. Nobody important needs those things, anyway.
On the other side of the aisle, a menstruating opponent. Daughter readies herself on the back of our basket. In the middle of the aisle, one box of viable name-brand product remains. I use my kid as a jousting stick/hook to try and scare the competition and retrieve the product first. I notice the top shelf is stocked with a variety of cups, but I firmly maintain that my vagina is still too young to start drinking heavily.
Daughter is brave. She sticks her foot out, a preteen narwhal, trying to give us the extra advantage. Both baskets start down the aisle at a brisk pace. We are playing premenstrual chicken, and I will not be the first to show weakness. My opponent’s face falls from smile to smirk to grimace as I keep my eyes locked on her bad ombre haircut (how could I look away?).
“Almost there, mama.” Daughter is encouraging. The box is almost within reach, and I think we’ve secured the win, when Ombre sends her basket shooting straight at us like a missile, and I have no choice but to veer off course. Once I’ve corrected, the box is gone and with it my one chance at decent feminine products for the month.
I give daughter a consolatory hug as we scan the shelves for anything at all that might be viable. It comes down to a choice between cardboard applicator or plastic cup. Hmm, well, they say to let your cup runneth over. So, I grab the goblet-looking device and raise it into the air. Cheers, Ombre. My first menstrual Mazel tov!
© 2022 | K.Hartless