He gets me. Period.

One of the reasons I went on the pill just under a year ago was because my 'Ladies' time' is a bit all over the place - not hugely - just you know enough to take me by surprise every few months. Of course, as we well know (now anyway) the pill didn't do me any favours. There was the crying. And the crying. And the really itchy, albeit sexy, rash on my legs, arms, chest, and head - da-amn. And the migraines.

But you'd think after nearly 15 years of experiencing the joys of not being pregnant...I'd be able to read the signs.

On Saturday, I talked to my parents about their plans to come visit me in April. When we got off skype I was so absolutely worried and anxious about everything that when Inspector Climate suggested that in five months my parents, us, and his best friend could possibly have dinner together I declared it an impossibility. How dare he suggest such a thing. The nerve. Dinner? Puh-lease.

As we hugged and tears came to my eyes, he suggested that maybe this sudden rare current bout of irrationality might be caused by that time of the month. "Nonsense" said I, "it's only been a couple of weeks." Of course, I was wrong. It was that very specific time of the month.

Ugh, 15 years folks.

At least one of us can read the signs.