Hello, Has Anyone Seen My Hormones?

I open the windows and huff and puff and take deep cleansing breaths to calm myself. I tune into the classic rock station so there is no chance that I will hear some woeful Sarah McLachlan song or anything about Taylor Swift going back to December. Maybe a little AC/DC would fix what ails me.

Once I am not a whimpering, swirling pool of emotional turmoil, I take a deep breath and call Scott, saying a few sentences out loud before dialing so I know I do not sound barky.

I am reasonably sure I am on the right street, and clear on the remainder of the route, so I can take my mind off the road for the call.

One ringy dingy.

"Hello! Where are you?" Scott asks with enthusiasm.

"Hi there!" I say brightly.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

Damn. There goes my Tony Award.

"Oh nothing. I had to make a stop and got a little turned around but I am back on track and OK now so I'll be there shortly" I say. Maybe a little too fast. Maybe a little too brightly.

"Stop for what? A girly emergency?"

No, he didn't.

Did he?

"Ummmm - well, yes, if you must know. How did you know?"

Oh good. I am dating the Amazing Kreskin.

"Lucky guess. Everyone here is in the same boat. I figured you would be too."

OK, one's Period is admittedly a fact of life. Nothing anyone should feel awkward about. Scott is nearly 50. I am sure he knows I get a Period. It's just that I did not want it to be "dinner conversation" exactly. And considering all the special effects I was experiencing, I was going to have to fess up. And it is a little more exposure than I would have liked. Something I didn't necessarily need to reveal just yet. A side of me I'd prefer to conceal for a bit. Like how I come completely unhinged if anything goes wrong at the airport.

But this, evidently, is a man who's been around women long enough to have learned the ropes. One sibling - a sister. Two teenaged daughters. Two ex-wives. Suddenly I am relieved to realize that me and my jumbo-sized deluxe model Period are not going to dish out anything he's not seen before.

"Well - good guess," I say, trying to act like I am not feeling overexposed. "And I'm not feeling real sporty. I may want to lie low tonight. Take it easy."

"No problem. The girls have already vetoed the original idea that we'd go iceskating. They'd rather go out for comfort food and then come home to watch The Blind Side by the fire on HD. Hey, I got us a bottle of wine! Should I pour you a glass or wait until you get here?"

I am nearly speechless.

"Oh, and don't mind the house when you get here. The girls have been lounging all day with heating pads and quilts and I gave them a pass."

I am smiling to myself. Aunt Flo, though uninvited, is not going to ruin this party after all. My cramps and crankies are going to fit in just fine.