Telling My Daughter the Truth
Describing the impending changes of womanhood to an 11-year-old
Sydney and I were in the drug store, waiting on line to pay, when Sydney noticed the two elderly women in front of us. They were, I’m guessing, in their eighties. One had a walker the other was pushing their cart which had only two jumbo sized boxes of “Poise” pads in it.
“Mom, I think they’re sisters,” she whispered to me.
“Yeah, I think you’re right. Cute, huh?” I whispered back while imagining Sister Lovey and I one day taking care of each other.
“And look,” Syd said, “They still get their periods.”
Choking back a laugh (no, a huge guffaw) I say, “I don’t think that’s possible honey.”
“Then why are they buying those?” she asked pointing to the Poise.
“I think because of loss of bladder control,” I said.
Syd looked at me like I had three heads and said nothing till we got in the car.