Husband Bravely Expresses Terror Over Wife’s Imminent Menopause

Uncertain about his future, intrepid husband wants answers

A husband of a woman in her mid-forties has recently expressed concern about what the woman’s impending major life change — otherwise knows as menopause — will mean for him.

He is full of questions and decides he can’t contain his anxiety any longer, so he shares his questions and concerns with his wife during what he expects to be a calm, reasonable, open, loving dialog.

“So, are you going to become a raging bitch all the time?” he starts off, voice trembling.

The wife whips around, wielding a knife that she was using to trim the fat off of a roast beast.

“What are you talking about?” she asks, sweaty and agitated.

“You know, when you go through menopause and stuff,” he replies, chock full of regret.

“And stuff?” she asks, waiving the fat-trimming knife around like a weed wacker.

“Well I’ve just been thinking a lot about it lately — and frankly, I’m a little scared,” he continues, now with a shovel in his hand to dig his own grave.

“You’re a little scared?” she fires back, unable to contain her growing rage.

“I’ve just heard some things out there — like what really happens to your, um, you know — what happens down there?” he asks making strange gestures towards her crotch.

“You’ve heard some things out where? And are you wondering what happens to my VAGINA?” she shouts. “I think it grows horns and starts to talk like Bobcat Goldthwait.” She turns her back and continues to chop the meat.

“Okay, well, back to your mood… will it get any worse?” asks the husband, now carefully eyeing the sharp object in his wife’s hands.

“What about my mood? What’s wrong with my current mood? My mood is always delightful!” she yells, then bursts into tears and then starts laughing like Chucky.

“So delightful,” he whispers, wiping sweat from his forehead as he slowly backs away.

“And I hear your voice may get a bit lower. Do you think you’ll start to sound like a man?” he asks hiding behind one of their children.

“I think my voice will sound just like my vagina’s,” she says. “And maybe people will finally start to listen to me around here!”

“And what about facial hair?” he squeaks, pretending it was the dog who asked.

“What about it?!”

“Do you think you’ll grow more of it?” he murmurs from behind the dog’s head.

“Hopefully I’ll start to look like Jason Kelce! That’s always the goal, but we can just share your razor if we decide it’s not a good look for me. Won’t that be romantic?!” says the wife, doing her best Bobcat voice.

“So romantic. Should we look into some new moisture wicking sheets or some sort of sweat-proof mattress pad?” he adds, thinking this would be a win because his wife loves to shop so much.

“Or separate beds!” she cheerfully suggests, knife still in hand.

“And what about your um, your sex drive? I hear that it sort of goes out the window.”

“Oh no, nothing to worry about. That only happens when a husband asks his wife the most asinine questions in the history of married-kind,” she replies, admiring the ease with which her knife slices through the sinewy meat.

The husband gulps and slinks away to his office.

The wife resumes her meat chopping and starts to fantasize about being banished to a menstrual shed. Then she remembers how women now have something far less horrifying called a she-shed.

She googles the nearest hardware store, puts her knife down and grabs her car keys. She has no idea how to build anything that isn’t from Ikea, but a new sense of determination propels her forward.

The wife can now be found chilling in her glamorous she-shed with her good friend, Bobcat. Bobcat has a great sense of humor and they both enjoy the moisture wicking materials she decorated with.