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My father always used to call my mother�s period her �WarPath.� I used to amuse myself by imagining crimson paint and swirling designs over the bright copper skin of her face. Today when I wear my very own war paint, I am annoyed with my father for his euphemism. Today I am able to have completely forgiven my mother had she, with a rain dance and tribal weapon attacked the more barren of the species. He used to smirk and wink at my brother and say, �Women.� And now how I wish my mother had been an Amazon. But mostly it seems unfair to me that women must go to war each month. . How Rude! - Wednesday, Sept. 22, 2004 - 12:16 PM One small step but no giant leap. - Tuesday, Sept. 30, 2003 - 11:17 AM Where's George? - Thursday, Sept. 25, 2003 - 12:48 PM |
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a Nifty design 
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