Why women are cranky

Why Women are Cranky......

We start to "bud" in our blouses at 9 or 10 years old only to
Find anything that comes in contact with those tender, blooming buds
hurts so bad it brings us to tears. Enter the almighty,
uncomfortable
training bra contraption the boys in school will snap until we have
calluses on our backs.

Next, we get our periods in our early to mid-teens (or sooner).
Along with those budding boobs, we now bloat, we cramp, we get the
hormone crankies, have to wear little mattresses between our legs or
insert tubular, packed cotton rods in places we didn't even know we
had.

Our next little rite of passage (premarital or not) is having
Sex for the first time which is about as much fun as having a ramrod
push your uterus through your nostrils (IF he did it right and
didn't
end up with his little cart before his horse), leaving us to wonder
what
all the fuss was about.

Then it's off to Motherhood where we learn to live on dry
Crackers and water for a few months so we don't spend the entire day
leaning over Brother John.

Of course, amazing creatures that we are (and we are), we learn
to live with the growing little angels inside us steadily kicking
our
innards night and day making us wonder if we're having Rosemary's
Baby.
Our once flat bellies now look like we swallowed a watermelon whole
and
we pee our pants every time we sneeze.

When the big moment arrives, the dam in our blessed Nether
Regions will invariably burst right in the middle of the mall and
we'll
Waddle with our big cartoon feet moaning in pain all the way to the
ER.
Then it's huff and puff and beg to die while the OB says, "Please
stop
screaming, Mrs. InLabor. Calm down and push. Just one more (10
more)
good push," warranting a strong, well-deserved impulse to punch the
b*****d (and DH) square in the nose for making us cram a wiggling,
mushroom-headed 10lb. bowling ball through a keyhole.

After that, it's time to raise those angels only to find that
When all that "cute" wears off, the beautiful little darlings morph
into walking, jabbering, wet, gooey, snot-blowing, life-sucking
little
poop machines. The teen years. Need I say more?

The kids are almost grown now and we women hit our voracious
Sexual prime in our mid-30's to early 40's while DH had his
somewhere
around his 18th birthday (which just happens to be the reason all
that
early hot man sex got you pregnant in the first place).

Now we hit the grand finale: "The Menopause," the Grandmother of
All womanhood. It's either take the HRT (hormone replacement
therapy)and chance cancer in those now seasoned "buds" or the
forementioned Nether Regions, or, sweat like a hog in July, wash
your
sheets and pillowcases daily and bite the head off anything that
moves.

Now, you ask WHY women seem to be more spiteful than men when Men
get
off so easy INCLUDING the icing on life's cake: Being able to pee in
the
woods without soaking their socks?

I love being a woman (call me crazy) but "Womanhood" would make the
Great Gandi more spiteful!!!

And they say women are the "weaker sex." HA!