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!