Dear Aunt Flo,
Every month you visit. Not like clockwork, but like the loud Aunt you are; you talk about visiting for days on end, don’t make it a reality and when you do end up visiting, it’s when I’ve left the laundry to pile up, not washed the dishes and the house is a mess.
Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate your presence. I appreciate that you’re here to tell me that everything is okay, and that I should not worry. But I wish that you would understand that your visit doesn’t come without its consequences. You see, some people have aunts who visit them but don’t make a fuss. They’re not left in a sobbing heap in the corner of the bed, wishing they wouldn’t have an aunt. For them, their aunts just pop by every 25-35 days. And they know exactly when their aunt visits them. Why can’t you visit like clockwork? It would be nice to know when you’re coming so I can prepare myself for the destruction you leave in your wake.
Do you see how much it hurts to have you come by? Do you see the two days I spend doubled over because the anticipation of your visit has my stomach in knots? Do you see how your upcoming visit affects my mood, making me extremely short-tempered and snippy at others? How when I’m at my most furious, hating even the idea of other people breathing around me, that’s when I need closeness the most? You make me an insecure wreck, one minute pushing everybody away, the next minute sobbing because they aren’t nearby.
Your visits are also costly. I suppose I could buy a special mug just for you, but I never know with you. Sometimes you want instant coffee from a paper cup, sometimes you want tea. And for some reason, you’re extremely thirsty at nights when I don’t notice. I always need to prepare for all eventualities, and it adds up, it really does. And when we add to that the costs of replacing my clothes after the careless swinging of your drinks, we’re talking sizeable sums.
And hey, can we talk about personal hygiene for a bit? I’d appreciate it if you took those tweezers into your hands so you can pluck those sprouting beginnings of a beard so I don’t have to. And I’d also appreciate you having a shower every now and then. You bring about a smell with you. It isn’t nice.
I know you’re very traditional, and honestly, I really do appreciate these visits. But one of these days, I’d like to wear whatever I wanted, something frilly and pretty without you pooh-pooing it immediately and forcing me to pull out those grannypants that tuck my belly in. Seriously, I know I’m tubby but every time you come to visit, I look about 9 months pregnant! As soon as you leave, I lose weight and look my normal self again. Cankles form back to ankles and my bras fit again. Which is weird because you’d think I’d gain heaps after eating my weight in chocolate and junk food. That’s all I want with you around. Normally I’m fine without a chinese every night, but when you’re here, I could have it all day every day. It’s becoming a problem.
Thank you Flo, for being there but could you please be more conspiquous?