It sucks to be a woman

It sucks to be a woman

I think you will agree

that a lot of what we go through 

seems un-necessary.

It starts quite early on

with the development of tits

and the school shirt you started with

no longer really fits.

Your Dad gets quite embarrassed

When you ask "what's going on?"

He gets all red faced and mumbles

stuff like "Go and ask your Mum"

 Your Mums not any better

She just shoves you in the car

after hugging you triumphantly

Shrieking "Lets go and buy a bra!"

We march with purpose through Tyrell and Green

through an unknown world of silk and lace

where woman in suits carry tape measures

and have too much make up on their face.

Then we get to periods

almost as awkward to say as go through

As like countless times before

you go and sit innocently on the loo

and the bog roll comes away bloody 

and you think you're going to die

and wonder do I call for help

or just sit here and cry?

You opt for the middle ground

stuffing paper down your keks

as you roll into a little ball

sobbing, trying to catch your breath.

Your Dad comes banging on the door

wondering what the hell you've done.

You tell him you're bleeding profusely

He says "I'll go and get your Mum"

Your Mum mops away your tears

And tells you you'll be fine

and that you're going to bleed like this

every month til the end of time

or at least until the menopause

when everything dries up

which is information overload

and you run to the sink to upchuck.

She then brings out a box

of the most enormous pads,

tells you to put it in your knickers

and then pull up your pants.

 It's like having a giant mattress

stuffed between your legs.

You're walking like John Wayne

wondering when it's going to end.

Then we get to dating

when we finally notice boys

but have to compete for their affections

with their silly little toys.

And then we finally pick one

that we actually like,

we spend our time obsessing,

asking questions through the night.

"Will he call or won't he?"

"Why did he say he would?"

"Why didn't he take my number,

when it's obvious he should?"

 

And when he finally calls

You're as happy as can be

You stay together through the years

'til he gets on bended knee

and asks for your hand in marriage,

for you to be his wife

and then you have to plan

the biggest day of your life!

You have to sort the venue,

the catering and the dress.

You have to sort the quarrels

and social rifts between the guests.

You have to stop the mothers'

muscling in on your big day

and keep the peace with everyone

who wants to have their say.

And then the day arrives

you're so nervous you could be sick

and pray that after all those fittings

the bloody dress still fits,

After the wedding comes babies

and you fight over one or two

and the first one is on it's way 

so there's nothing you can do.

Your water breaks on your new rug

The labour pains have started.

And you wonder if you shit yourself

when you accidentally farted.

Everyone tells you to breathe

and that you'll be just fine

but you growl and hiss and spit and swear

that this will be the last time

"You ever get your hands on me,

you total fucking cunt!"

As the watermelon sized baby

comes out a pea sized hole with a grunt.

Your pelvis splits, your fanny rips

with legs in stirrups, spread wide.

As you look down on that tiny face

and your insides burst with pride.

And then you have to watch 

while that bundle of joy grows up

and you'll teach her that being a woman

doesn't actually suck that much.