Disclaimer: May make you think differently of me, and of my husband. But he begged me to write this.
Jeff and I have been together for over four years, so our senses of humor have sort of combined and evolved into a crude and hilarious twinspeak. Jeff comes from a family whose in-jokes are almost exclusively scatological, while I spent my formative years developing a dark and acerbic wit, partnered with an almost childlike silliness. Our married humors, therefore, are silly and sinister, and generally favor parts of the body and things that emit from them.
When I have my period, Jeff takes it as a personal challenge to come up with a new name for it. "Falling to the communists" was a favorite. But the other night, Jeff very proudly unveiled a new euphemism. As I crawled over to him on the couch, he beamed at me beatifically and asked "Are you having your drippies?"
I know, I KNOW, that this is TMI. But he was so proud, and wanted me to post it. So, there you go. Now you know. I am having my drippies. And I think it says something that I love him all the more for his enthusiasm at finding new and inapropriate names for them. We are made for each other, or, at least, no one else will have us.