Interesting word, isn’t it? Menopause. Men-o-pause. Who ever came up with that word was trying to relay a very important message. I’m sure of it.
I have hot flashes. When they happen, I need to separate myself from anything that produces heat, like my husband. I take a pause from my man. Hummmm.
Sometimes, my hot flashes make me cranky. Just sometimes. When that happens, I separate myself from anyone around me, usually my husband, so I don’t do anything I’ll regret, like rip his face off.
And then there are those special times when menopause causes my body to crave dark rich chocolates in enormous quantities which are never enough. When that happens I need to separate myself from anyone who looks at me while shaking their head and says, “just remember this when you get on the scale in the morning.” That would be my husband.
Every once in a while, I have the menopausal bloats. When that happens, I ask my husband, “Do these jeans make me look fat?” If he is suddenly frozen in place, like an ice statue with a slight tremble, I separate myself from him so I don’t force a lie out of the poor guy.
Now and then, I am haunted by the menopause cry baby fairy. I hate her. When that happens, I usually spend three or four days doing all I can to ward her off, but she always gets me in the end. That’s when I notice my husband quietly slipping out the door to get away from me. I guess men-o-pause works both ways!
Men-o-pause. What an interesting word.