An Idiot’s Guide to Handling a Hormonal Girlfriend

Step 3. Don’t question my mood swings. If I want ice cream, give me ice cream. Don’t even think about substituting it for frozen yogurt unless you want me to burst into another round of tears. If I want to talk about my deep-rooted insecurities that trace back to my horrific junior high school experiences, let me talk about that time I had braces.

I’m going to need you to tell me I’m beautiful. I’m going to need a back rub. I’m going to need a bubble bath, but first I’m going to need for you to wash my bathtub. When I’m in the bubble bath, can you hold my magazine for me so the pages don’t get wet? Can you dim the lights, set up a few scented candles and make baby whale sounds? Can you run to the corner and pick me up a box of super tampons, another pint of ice cream, a bag of ice and a bottle of scotch? Can you make me a scotch milkshake and feed it to me in the bathtub?

[from my pseudonymous column at The Gloss]


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