When Paige got her first period, I gave her a book and told her to call Grandma. I didn't really know what to say other than, "It comes once a month." Thank goodness for the female influences in Paige's life, eh?

It's just not something I've had to deal with a lot in my experiences.

I was sent off to the store to buy the diapers. As I'm talking to Jerame on the phone on my way there, Paige tells him that she's out of tampons. Would I please pick up some while I'm at the store?

Diapers and tampons. Great. It's a two-fer.

Wandering the store chuckling at what had to be my most heterosexual-like shopping experience, it struck me exactly how funny it was going to be to watch Jerame try to put a diaper on that dog. She has to be the most hyperactive canine on the planet and jumps around like a jack rabbit.

(It was too! She was too big for the diapers so we had to give her a pair of panties too to hold the diaper in place. What would you use to keep the two together? Jerame tried duct tape and staples before little nelly me intervened with some safety pins. Gay saves the day!)

I made it to the diaper aisle and quickly realized I'd never paid attention to this particular section. There's a bazillion choices of diapers! How in the world can you possibly know what the difference is? What size diaper does a 65 pound dog wear? The packages only mentioned up to 28 pounds!

I had to call home.

Me: "I don't know what size diaper to get."

Jerame: "The biggest one. How in the hell do I know?!"

Me: "I'm calling Grandma."

Confident in my diaper sizing knowledge after talking to Jerame's mom on the phone, I strutted over to the feminine hygiene products. That's when I realized I was about as familiar with this area as I was with the last. There's a bazillion pink and purple packages there too!

I had to call home.

Me: "I don't know what to get."

Jerame: "Tampons. How in the hell do I know?!"

Me: "Put Paige on the phone."

Swaggering back to the check-out with my purchases (and full of how well I'd done in tackling the feminine mystique), I got in line at the self check. Of course, there was some guy in front that couldn't figure out the whole swipe and bag relationship.

As the line grew behind me, the next woman in line struck up small talk. We chatted about the weather until Mr. Mensa finished with the register and it was my turn.

When I finished up, the woman behind me said, "Don't you make your wife get up with that baby during the night now," with a big grin.

Laughing, I said the only thing I could think of...

"Oh, I won't."