It was another day of belly laughing for me. My coworker and I had a two hour lunch with a dear friend. She is hysterically funny, has a wonderful and sometimes warped sense of humor. She is so fun to be with. She said she is concerned that on the verge of her fiftieth birthday, she just might be on the verge of menopause. "What ARE hot flashes? I don't think I've ever had one. Everything in the lady department seems to be regular. But I think it's menopause causing my erratic symptoms."
"Well, then, what are your symptoms?" we asked.
"This crazy snake lady comes out of my head, (she entwined her hands overhead like she was doing the Flamenco), wraps around anything or anyone that gets in my way and makes me say things I would never say. I am losing my filter."
It's excusbale, we told her. In fact, I read somewhere that elderly Native American women are forgiven all of their foibles. They can get away with saying anything after menopause.
"Since my husband lost his job, he tends bar sometimes at an upscale restaurant. I am not jealous. I knew he would be out late, so I went to bed. During the night I was awakened by our six year old who had climbed into bed with me, rolled over and plowed into my gut. When I sat up and looked at the clock, this snake-head lady erupted out of my head. I dialed my husband's cell phone. He answered after a few rings and sounded groggy (or drunk). I tore into him. "Do you know how unfair it is of you to make me worry like this? A phone call is all I ask for. There are only two places you could possibly be at this hour, either at a bar or at someone's house. It is 2:30 in the morning and all I want is the truth from you. Where the hell are you!"
Quietly, he replied, "In the other room, trying to sleep in our son's bed."
We were laughing so hard and loud, gasping for air. The manager at Panera Bread Company walked over to us, and when he saw that he did not have to dial 911 for three simultaneous chokers, he feigned interest in removing our dishes. I teach preschool, and I know the art of distraction vs. confrontation. I'm sure he would have urged us to take it down a notch or leave, except he caught a glimpse of the snakes unfurling from our peri-menopausal, smack-dab-in-the middle of menopause, and post-menopausal heads.
Care to share your embarrassing moment? Laughter is good for the system and soul.