A very recent trip to my family doctor gave way to a stunning revelation that in his words meant, “I have a low level of endurance”.
As true as this might be, I refuse to take this from a human being belonging to the male species. Men, of all the people living on this shrinking planet, know quack
about enduring pain. Men can’t even touch the sheer humongous amount of pain we have to go through in our lifetime with a 100-foot pole.
First of all, my every month is tainted with a couple of days of pure pain in its worst form and if on top of this I have to tolerate an extra bout of it, I am plainly not going to do it. I refuse to ruin my few precious days by holding in the anguish within me without so much as crying aloud and ranting about it. I don’t want anymore pain. Period. This whole scheme of unfair things in this universe doesn’t just end with “those days of the month”, no, we have more pain coming up for the ladies, childbirth.
It’s again us, lesser mortals, who have been picked to actually be a part of “The Miracle of Life”. Let me clarify something here, this lolly of “The Miracle of Life” doesn’t entice me. I do want a kid, but I don’t want to HAVE the kid. I want MY kid to be carried by someone else. That’s it. For once, guys should be able to bear the torture and let us live in much deserved peace.
Screw you guys, I am going home!