No matter how protected, there can come a time each month when counting the days to 26 are a bit unnerving. Hormones, being what that they are, have a sense of humor; relief comes often at the least opportune time, saying hello in a pink wave.
Welcome, old friend, the day before a wedding and green satin, belly hugging gown. Or tomorrow while you tag along to a causal “25 Year High School Reunion” dinner to mingle with boys and girls, now men and women, each with a story to update and stomach to suck in.
Oh well. Dodged that bullet through another flip of the calendar.