"Bedazzled Tampon" found via Flickr
I spent the day making and delivering food to the youth in my church who were pulling weeds, scraping paint and hauling garbage in service for the church grounds of another denomination. The day was overcast with scattered showers, but by the end of the day it was POURING rain. We found shelter under a pavilion at a nearby park and brought food in for a barbecue. No one was prepared with jackets, so I brought every jacket I could find in my closet to the pavilion for the cold and wet crowd. The Young Men President gratefully put on the Glediator's black leather jacket, stuffed his fists in the pockets to keep his hands warm and pulled out a fist full of tampons. He laughed. The Glediator laughed. When he brought it my attention I fumbled for words. "It's ok," he chuckled, "I have a wife too you know." I wanted to say "Gleddy, why did you leave your tampons in your coat pocket?" But I knew that wouldn't work. So, all I could do was laugh too. And I am still laughing.
What is it with tampons? I had Gleddy carry those tampons in his pockets on an evening when we were out and about and I had no pockets with which to safeguard them. As we drove around in the car, I looked over at one point and he was wearing them over his ears like pencils. I already told you about the time Thatcher found some in the bathroom cupboard and attempted to make crafts with them. But I did not tell you about the time he found one in the glove compartment of the car. I caught a glimpse of him in the rearview mirror and he was pretending to smoke it like a cigarette.
I'm sorry! Is this post making you uncomfortable? Perhaps you should find another blog to read . . .