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So Joe refuses to buy pads or tampons. Stay with me people, I’m going somewhere with this. I dated that guy for over seven years and not once did he ever buy them. To demonstrate just how strongly he felt about this, I will tell you the story of the only time in over seven years that I ever asked him to purchase them. I was very, very sick. Probably the sickest I’ve ever been in my life. To put it in perspective, Joe doesn’t have a TV in his bedroom, yet I stayed in his bed for at least three days, too sick and too weak to even make it the twenty feet into the living room for some entertainment. To add insult to injury, because I wasn’t in enough pain and discomfort, halfway through this illness, I found myself in need of some lady favors.

So I croaked out a weak and pitiable request that Joe go to the store and buy some pads for his poor, debilitated girlfriend because I was sick. So, so sick. And God had further smited me with this wretched curse. And aren’t I pitiful and weak and sick, Joey? So sick, Joe. Oh, God, the sickness! Please go to the store and get the girl you love some pads, please. You would have thought I had just asked him to decapitate a puppy. He stammered and objected and insisted he would get the wrong kind because he’s a man, he doesn’t know anything about lady goodies. How will he know what to get? And what will the cashier think? How will he ever show his face at the 7-11 again? He can’t live without Slurpees! It’s all so confusing and overwhelming and how could I do this to him? Because I was too weak to slap him, I calmly explained what the package looked like, the brand name, reminded him of how sick I was, how much I loved him, and that we would both get through this. Then I said to make sure to get the the thin ones, medium sized, with wings. That was too much for him. He had no point of reference for this. What are these wings you speak of? No, I can’t do this, you have to come with me.

He objected so resolutely, that I found myself having no other choice but to summon the strength to get out of bed, get dressed and get in the car so I could accompany my poor, flustered boyfriend to the 7-11. Once we got there, I refused to get out of the car. I looked like death and I had used up all the strength I had to get this far. So after much filibustering, he finally got out of the car, went in, and bought his girlfriend some damn pads. I like to think I won that one.

Now another story: I find it highly entertaining to send Joe funny, naughty words via text. He has the sense of humor of a 12 year old boy sometimes and certain words give him a giggle. I like to imagine the look on his face when he opens his phone and sees the word “poop.” Heehee, poop. Giggle, giggle. I’ve sent “taint,” “cock ‘n’ balls,” “anal leakage,” and any number of other ridiculous, harmless words or phrases I can think of because he appreciates it. I know because if I stop for a while, he’ll call me and say “where are the text messages? why did the text messages stop? I like the text messages. They give me a giggle.” So I keep doing it. I think it’s our way of staying connected. However, Joe has never ever, not once responded to any of these texts or to any other text message I ever send him. He has some crappy cell phone plan that actually charges him for every text he sends so he refuses to participate in the texting world. Which is just fine with me because you try not responding when you get a text message that says “hairy balls.” It’s harder than you might think and this adds to the fun for me.

Anyway, a few nights ago, he and I had about a half hour phone conversation which was lovely and we got all caught up on the latest happenings. After we got off the phone, I sent him a text that said simply: “I love you.” A few minutes later my phone beeped and when I looked, I had a text message from Joey and it said, “I love you too!” I guess some things are just worth paying to say.

A couple of nights after that, I was watching “The Soup” and they showed a clip of Kim Kardashian on Tyra talking about how Reggie Bush, the tough and rugged (and hot!) Saints football player, will actually buy tampons for his girlfriend. This is some bullshit, I thought! If Reggie stinkin’ Bush can do it, chancing the fact that he will be photographed doing so, then certainly Joe has had no excuse all these years! So I immediately texted him: “Reggie Bush buys Kim tampons! You are never getting out of it again!” A few minutes later my phone beeped and when I looked, I had a text message from Joey and it said, “Bah humbug.” So his love of me and his aversion to tampons? Apparently equal .