Sunday, 26 February 2012

Hormones and chocolate

Ooh, look at this! I have a blog! How exciting!

Let me introduce myself. My name is Alison Turner. I'm 51 years old, divorced with 2 children. I suppose you'd call them grown-up children now although I still find it hard to think of them that way. In fact it was Adam, my son, who's home from university this weekend, who suggested I should start a blog.

And he's also partly the reason I'm sitting here typing this on a Saturday evening when I should be, well, relaxing or, you know, doing something more exciting with David. But Adam and David are still at the pub.


Adam suggested David should go with him and his friends because 'You'll be better off if Mum's in a mood.'


David, by the way, is - I still haven't decided what to call him. Boyfriend sounds ridiculous for a woman my age and gentleman friend makes me sound like a kept woman. Partner sounds so sexless and our relationship definitely couldn't be called that. (Oh, am I allowed to mention sex on my blog? I'd better ask Adam. No, on second thoughts, children are always a bit prissy about their parents having sex; I know that from my own experience last year in the caravan in Tenby with Mum and Dad.) 


Anyway it was our first big row. First since we've been a couple that is; we had plenty of rows before we leapt that divide. And it all started because I happened to ask David if he'd mind very much not clicking his teeth together when he ate. 


We were eating lunch, David and Adam and me, and his teeth were beginning to put me on edge. David and Adam looked at each other and Adam said, 'Uh oh.'
'I agree,' David said. 'Looks like your mother's having a menopausal moment.'
'Excuse me,' I said, 'menopausal?'
'It's all right, dear, we understand your hormones are playing up.' He laughed.
'Menopausal? Dear?'
This time they both laughed.
'Calm down, Mum,' Adam said. 'David's only joking.'
'I am perfectly calm but I'm nobody's dear least of all someone who doesn't know the difference between menopause and menstrual.'
David looked at me, slightly puzzled. I continued, 'I'm not menopausal! I'm quite prepared to admit that it could be my hormones - my pre-menstrual hormones.'
'Oh, I'm sorry,' David said. 'It's just that I thought ...'
'You thought what?'
'Well, I didn't think you'd had a period for a long time so I just assumed ...'
'You assumed wrong. It isn't that long since I had a period; I had one only ...' I struggled to recall the last one ... 'Anyway,' I trailed off, 'I'm far too young to be menopausal.'
'At 51?' David didn't sound convinced.


So when Adam set off for the pub to watch the rugby with his mates he suggested David went too. And he went!


Thinking about it, which I have been doing most of the afternoon, I suppose I could be menopausal; I just never expected it to happen to me. So just as I think my life is going to be hunky dory with my new man, I have hot flushes, night sweats and unwelcome hair growth to look forward to. Big sigh.


Later
David came home with the biggest bar of chocolate you've ever seen. He sent it in first, holding his arm around the door, to pave the way. But better still he apologised for his insensitivity. And I said I was sorry and that I'd been so happy with him that I hadn't even thought about missing periods and then I burst into tears. and he kissed me and we finally got round to eating the chocolate much later ... in bed.



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