Maxi Pads and Oceans

Strangely maxi pads and oceans don't mix. I learned this fact the hard way while on a vacation to Florida when I was 13. As you know, puberty can be a time of uncomfortable questions and even more uncomfortable products that are destined to go where no man has gone before. My mom was terrific about sharing with  me everything she knew in the ways of feminine products but unfortunately she was not educated in the ways of the tampon. I had full reign of over-sized pillows that I could barely fit in my panties and wispy liners that seemed to protect only the areas that needed the least protection. I had wings, heavy day protection and nighttime ditties that felt like humping a pillow for 8 hours straight. Without the climax. Maturation programs don't do justice to the yoga positions you need to maneuver into while inserting a tampon and that tacky side view pic they put on the insert of the tampon box makes my vagina look like a beginning and end destination on a map, with the end being a large lake. Short of fisting myself, I wasn't clear on how to get a piece of cotton that far up. I gave up before I even got started on that project. I avoided swimming, bicycle riding and attractive clothing during the first year of my period and had a sneaking suspicion that there was a better way to live.
Then it was vacation time. Let it be known, that starting with this Florida vacation and every single one subsequent to it, I have had my aunt visit. She purposely regulates herself so that I can be especially uncomfortable while flying, riding in a car for ten hours, going through security and all other vacation related activities. My husband finds it amusing. I find it to be pretty fucking disheartening that I can't enjoy one week away from our house without being bloated, yelling at strangers and needing an entire suitcase dedicated to Kotex. Fuck that bitch.
So I fly to Florida with my best friend and a group of our peers that we hate, me and the bestie are hoping against hope that the rest of the group will miss a layover or get food poisoning so we can really enjoy ourselves. On the second day of the trip, my aunt shows up. This turned out to be our day a the beach and we were headed there in one hour. I put on my swimsuit and packed it with the largest pad I had and begin to wonder about my fate. Will I swim? Will I get eaten by a shark? Will everyone know I have a mattress between my legs? Do I have any other options? It didn't look promising.
When we get to the beach it's like a gaggle of inmates have been let out for an afternoon, everyone bolts to the sand, strips down and dives in the water. I really, really wanted to follow them in. It was hot and muggy and my curly hair wasn't holding up. It  looked like Exxon had dumped a load on my forehead and I desperately needed some cold water. I jumped in, and if you haven't already drawn a diagram in your head, this next part may astound you. The maxi pad swelled to an unrecognizable size and I could feel it trying to peek out from between my legs. I swam and feigned laughter so no one would be the wiser.I would love to say that it was a beautiful day in the ocean but it was not. The diaper was getting larger by the minute and I couldn't focus on anything else. When it was time to go, I did the most heinous thing I have ever done to the environment...I huddled down in the water, pulled that soggy mess from my crotch and tossed it as far as  I could into the ocean. Yes, that really happened. I am imagining now all the sea turtles and dolphins I killed or perhaps the Great White I enticed to come eat a small child. It was not my proudest moment, but I knew I could not walk to the bus with that thing in my suit. I ran onto the sand, grabbed my towel and wrapped myself, pig in a blanket style, for the long ride back to the hotel. Once there, I had to attempt a clean up. It looked like a massacre. Every white towel was covered in bright red pigment and to the chagrin of my bunk mates, there was no showering for anyone but me. My heart went out to the maid, to the ocean life, to my bestie and to the person who probably saw me toss that soppy wet pillow into the ocean. You know there was one person who witnessed my atrocity. They never went to a beach again and have since banned maxi pads in their home. Sorry bout it, stranger.