Recently I was faced with the dilemma of having to buy sanitary napkins again. By again I mean, since having kids and being forced to buy those enormous surf boards that need a whole bag of their own to transport. I’m not joking – I packed an entire bag of them the first time I had a child. I wasn’t sure how many I’d need and they are truly enormous. You could attach one to each butt cheek, if going to a fancy dress party as Kim Kardashian, and you’d still have to strap them down with gaffa tape.
Anyway, I found myself standing at the pad aisle trying to find something suitable for my monthly requirements. Seriously, why don’t they have any with a built-in slow release hormone function to ensure you are stable throughout menstruation? Failing that, they could at least come with a family-sized block of Cadbury chocolate and a bottle of gin.
I stood looking at the murder of pads (murder I believe is the collective noun for many pads or maybe colony like a colony of beavers) and my eyes started rolling into the back of my head I was so confused AND BORED. Seeing that I am nearly 40, anything remotely period-like is just plain, mind numbingly boring. So, I just grabbed the cheapest thinnest looking, no wing-variety of pads and shoved them in my trolley.
It wasn’t until I had to use those suckers that I realised they were in fact panty liners to keep your panties fresh during the day. Two things are wrong about that sentence – the word panties and the fact women do that. I mean really? Really? I have never thought to line my knickers to keep my undies fresh. Isn’t that what undies are for?
That’s how I found myself with panty liners in my handbag. I am not quite sure why I still have them, but today they saved me. And this is why.
Not being the most organised person I had forgotten to replenish my tissue stash. So, when Miss E sneezed while I was standing in just my knickers in the change rooms of Target and a massive greenie was dangling from her nose I was unprepared. I dug through my bag looking for a shopping docket or a chewing gum wrapper and there like a beacon of light was a panty liner. I whipped that cheeky bugger out of its wrapper and used it to soak up the snot like the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills coming across spilt champagne. I felt like I was in a suburban version of Man vs Wild – Woman vs Child. Luckily I wasn’t thirsty, that could’ve got nasty.
What have you been forced to use in an emergency?