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Warning: this post has the potential to horrify you. Do not read if easily horrified. If you do read and end up horrified, well then, that's your own fault, isn't it?
I'm debating whether to tell you guys about my most mortifying moment(s) or the most disgusting thing I ever did. It wasn't disgusting for me, just A-Day-In-The-Life, but it was probably pretty disgusting for those future unsuspecting campers.
Oh look, a robin.
Wow it's really red.
What brilliant feathers.
Is that...it looks like blood.
Is it injured?
Is that a...
No, it couldn't be. How'd it get way out here?
I'm goin' in for a closer look.
Oh! My eyes!
Who would do that?! Sick. Really really sick.
In my defense, I was on an island. Without a bathroom. What else was I supposed to do with the tampon? Sure bury it, is the obvious, and unimaginative, choice. Granted, when I flung it through the air like a beautiful bird in flight, I didn't intend for it to lodge just so between the branches of the tree-I-don't-know-the-name-of-but-will-now-be-forever-known-as Tampon Tree. Seriously, people. I am talented, but I couldn't do that if I tried. (I have attempted to re-enact that scene no less than 100 times, and never once have I even come close to repeating it. In related news, my neighbor is becoming very verklempt by all the tampons mysteriously appearing under the oak tree in his front yard. "Do you know anything about this?" he asked me, because apparently I look like the girl who would know something about mysteriously appearing tampons. "Looks like a Christmas miracle to me," I responded. "Except, you know, it's June and instead of a Christmas tree it's and oak tree and instead of a miracle it's a bunch of tampons. But oh! They still have the string! You could hang them from the tree! Insta-ornaments and recycling all in one!" He was not amused and surprisingly unappreciative that I just handed him the next billion-dollar idea. Ungrateful asshat.)
What were we talking about?
Ah yes, the delightful children's tale A Tampon in the Woods.
It really was quite lovely, displayed there at eye-level - as any proper work of art should be - reminiscent of the Mona Lisa or Monet's Water Lilies. Or perhaps it more closely resembled the works of Van Gogh in that once people saw it, they wanted to cut off their ear, and by that I mean, gouge out their eyes.
Look at me and my dramatics. Is there anything more natural than taking your children on a hike through the woods and spotting the rare, hardly seen, but deeply sought after Tampon Bird? Those kids will grow up to be conservationists. Or possibly serial killers. Either way, their parents will be proud, right?
What did I do after I lodged the tampon in the tree?
Turned to the one who has all the answers - the husband - and exclaimed with wide-eyed wonder and abandon - yes, just like those kids on Christmas morn - "what should I do?!
The husband: Meh. Leave it. It's not the most disgusting thing you've ever done.
Me: Whatever do you mean?!
The husband: Don't tell me you forgot about the time your uterus exploded all over the Pottery Barn bathroom.
Me (slapping hand to forehead): Oh, how could I forget!...Wait! How do you know about that? That doesn't happen until years later. Oh my bloody tampon, are you from the future?! Will I grow up to have big boobs and long shiny locks. Will my skin remain tight, my ass upright, and be able to party all night? Ooh, am I going to be a poet? Tell me, oh wise husband from the future.
The husband: Pull your pants up and let's go.
Me: Are all husbands from the future so bossy?
The husband: A bug's about to crawl up your ass.
Me: Well good for him! Or maybe it's a her. How do you tell the gender of a bug?
And so I (rather begrudgingly) pulled up my pants, bidding my tampon a "farewell" and a "hope to see you soon," but in a "from a distance" kind of way not a "hey, come on in" kinda way. Obviously.
Sometimes when life is particularly stressful, or depressing, or lacking in art, I like to think of my little Tampon Bird, nestled cozily in its little Tampon Tree bringing unsuspected joy to hundreds of campers, hikers, boaters, and the like. I just can't help but smile. My little gift to the world. My way of spreading joy. Bringing hope. Giving Back.
Up until today, I have never shared this story with anyone.
Not because it's disgusting.
But because I like to do my charity work, anonymously.
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Thanks again, Sarcasm Goddess!! And stay tuned... a new weekly writing prompt will be here before you know it!!