I guess we’ll just have to accept the fact that the Google ads for this post will probably be a little gauche. When I decided to do the ad thing, I really didn’t give much thought to what they would show, until I learned they were content related (although I’ve never figured out what wrinkled skin has to do with gardening). I’ve had to put several sites into the “blocked” list so they don’t appear, but none of those were too bad, more ignorant than anything, at least they were to me. But I digress. . . .
I’d like to take this opportunity to talk about women. Now I know that there’s way too much stuff to talk about when one talks about women, so I’ve decided to narrow my topic a bit. If you read the title of this post (and how could you not?), you already know what’s about to be discussed. But don’t worry ladies, and men, I’m even going to narrow it down more than that. Basically, what I want to talk about is: Hot.
No, I’m not talking about the adjective hot used to describe attractive women and/or men and other things, I’m talking about a physiological condition a lot of perimenopausal women know as hot flashes. And guys, let me tell you, they’re really hot. I know. It’s like being next to a human heater. Sometimes I think my wife is combustible.
Writing in the March 2009 issue of RDH, dental hygienist Kelli Swanson Jaecks gives us a vivid description of what she endured one night: “Sweat soaked sheets. Sweat beading on my brow and breasts. Sweat running in rivers through the valleys of my flesh. I woke, drenched in sweat and hotter than hell.” I’ll never complain about male pattern baldness again!
Even though you might think you’ve been “educated” on a particular subject (my minor was Women’s Studies) something will invariably serve as a reminder that it’s just been an exercise in sciolism. And I ultimately surrender to the notion that I’ll never understand the arcana of women.
But I’m wondering if I should keep a fire extinguisher close to the bed, just in case one of those hot flahes gets a little too hot.