A number of years ago, I was married and was living out in the ‘burbs.
The closest thing we had to next door neighbors were two very nice women who were about my age. They’d been together for over ten years and were a very nice couple. One was a lawyer while the other is was a veterinarian (actually, at the time, she was the vet for our dog).
The lawyer had a hysterectomy. Things went really well for her. She was supposed to be bed bound for like three weeks but she was moving about and planning to go back to work at the end of the second week.
One Saturday shortly after this, I went to get the mail. In the mailbox, I noticed that a letter was placed in it from our neighbors. What was strange was that it was just addressed to my then wife. A couple of times a year or so, we would visit each other’s homes. Both my wife and I were always invited. Most of the time, however, it was a new kind of dog treat that the vet wanted our dog to try. In that case, she usually addressed the letter to our dog. The fact that our dog received more personal mail than me (and how I felt about that) is another topic for another day.
So, I went inside and told my wife that she had a letter from our neighbors. She kind of gets a WTF look on her face, but then shrugs her shoulders and opened the envelope.
Out of the envelope slid a tampon tube. Now, if anything, an even more WTF look crossed her face. She opened the tube and unfurled a piece of paper that was rolled up like a scroll. She read the paper.
It was an invitation to the lawyer’s retirement party. Now, we’re even more confused. After all, the lawyer was about our age, and at that time we were nowhere near retirement, and it’s not as if she seemed to be doing all that much better than us to be able to retire so early.
My ex then re-read it. It turned out that it was actually an invitation to the lawyer’s uterus retirement party?! My ex was to write up some uterus retirement wish, place it back in the tampon tube, after which at some point during the party said tube would be tossed into a burn barrel.
Hmmmm….. Now, a couple of things came to my mind…
- On the weird meter, where 1 is dressing your dog in a hot dog suit and 10 is having your boss tell you an extended anecdote about his son’s underwear (something that still causes me to lose sleep), where does this lie?
- Is this some kind of centuries old secret cult ritual of the feminine that now that I know about it I must be summarily executed?
- Truly, this is one party that I really didn’t mind not being invited to.
- What kind of wine do you bring to a uterus retirement party?
- Will there be a bon voyage banner of a uterus sailing off into the sunset?
- Will they sing, ‘For she’s a jolly good fellow?’
- Will there be clowns?