. . . Tampon MIstakes.
Lots of 'em. In one day.
So, yes, it's time for LiLu's TMI Thursday. And this possibly will be my last one for a while, as I believe I am fresh out of inspiration. But I had this one, inspired by a TMI post that the fabulous, "I-want-her-as-my-best-friend" Meghan posted a few weeks back to pull out of the bag this week.
I apologise in advance (especially to any dudes who might be reading - if you wish to flip the channel now, I will understand, pinky swear) but will try NOT to overdo the TMI.
I didn't start using tampons until I was sixteen - mainly because I was scared of them and couldn't really work out where they went.
(Can you tell I wasn't sexually active as a teenager???)
So eventually it all came to a head when I was on holiday one year. Me and my sister had befriended these two Irish girls at our holiday camp in Devon (funnily enough, despite the fact that I haven't seen them since that summer in - I believe 1996, we're friends on Facebook) and their parents offered to take us to a water park one day. Now luckily Devon is far warmer than Scotland (South Devon's nickname is "The English Riviera") so a waterpark there in July was actually not a bad idea. (It WOULD be in Glasgow.)
The only problem was, Aunt Rose was in the middle of her monthly visit. Eek. It was finally time for me to try out tampons, I realised. So I dispatched my mum out to get me some. She brought me back two boxes of them. Which seemed a bit too many.
At the time.
An hour later, I was sweating profusely, freaking out, and had went through an entire box of tampons. And these WERE the ones with the applicators (I STILL can't use the ones without, even fourteen years later!) I couldn't work out how to put it in, and how to get it to STAY in. I kept dropping them on the floor or nearly ending up with them in - er - other places. Now I honestly don't have a clue how I couldn't work it out. But like I said, I was innocent and naive and . . . well all the things I'm not REMOTELY anymore. So there you go.
I may have asked my mum to help. She said no, funnily enough.
Finally, about two tampons into the second box, I got one in. And it appeared to be staying. Woohoo! I didn't want to think about it too much in case I scared it, and we were already running late to meet our new friends, so I stuck on my swimsuit over the whole mess and we headed off.
If you think that was the end of it, you have another think coming. There's more . . . (Sorry)
The waterpark we went to was called Quay West and it was great fun, tons of great rides to go on. There was one that was virtually a completely vertical drop. I was too scared to go on that one. My sister went on it and gave herself a wedgie. I'm sure some dudes lost their swimming trunks on it. Eek. I opted for a slightly tamer one - it was quite steep but it went down in stages so it was much less scary apart from the drop at the end.
As I caught my breath and went to climb out of the landing pool, I realised something was different.
My tampon, which hadn't been in right in the first place (I realised now) had dislodged itself. It was now sitting inside the bottom half of my swimsuit.
There wasn't much I could do about it. I didn't have any spares (and let's face it, I probably didn't have enough to get another one in to stay in long enough to last me the day). I couldn't take it out in public. I had no IDEA where the loos were.
So for the rest of the day I had to walk about with it loose inside the crotch of my swimsuit. Terrified it might break free.
But I survived.
And I am MUCH BETTER at using tampons now.
The End. :)
(This totally wasn't meant to publish tomorrow, but I wanted to write it now to cheer myself up after crappy yesterday and its totally published itself somehow. So whatever. Enjoy!) Or not...