Even My Body Won't Act It's Age

We are going on vacation, or "holiday" as they say in Canada.

I discovered yet another thing that, no matter where you go, or live, remains the same. See that picture of my overstuffed suitcase? Yeah, I know, that's nothing new - you've seen that before, but check out the circled area. Yes, it's a box of tampons.

Whether you're American or Canadian or even Swedish, if you are a woman and you plan a vacation, this will happen to you. Even if you are fifty-one years old, especially if you are from Irish decent which brings me to my gratitude entry for today.

Dear God (not to label you or anything it's just that you never told me your name)

Thank you for sending me into this world at a time when there are birth control pills and other messier options, including but not limited to tubal ligation, available to prevent the otherwise inevitable birth of my 17 children which, by the way is partly due to the fact that I (and other women of similar descent) am fifty-one years old (yes, 51) and I am still "fertile" or rather would be if I hadn't been born during a time when options were available and for this, God I am forever thankful. Amen.

Because if you had sent me into this world at a time where I had no options and because of my 17 pregnancies the skin on my stomach looked like the skin of a rotten tangerine, I would rage against you and stab myself in the eye. Twice. And then, bleeding profusely from the eyeball I would then run after Dave with the knife aiming considerably lower than the eye-area. Amen. Again.

PS. Dave is grateful too.