Every month, he tries to come up with some hysterical description of my period and tries to outdo himself every time. So far, he's said that my:
- Hoohah is crying blood tears
- Cave is awash in cherry Slurpee
- Love box is puking lava
- Red velvet cupcake is leaking
- Lady parts are re-enacting scenes from The Shining
He doesn't flinch when I toss pads in the shopping cart. He high-fives me when I tell him that I have cramps. He's like if Midol were a human; he makes me feel better about the whole thing. Ladies take note: THIS is the kind of guy you should marry. He'll be a buddy to your monthly curse.