I waited outside of the aisle, pretending to study the manly five-blade razors on the end-cap, my saggy-burrito butt pointed away from all passer-bys. It took a while for traffic to clear. Once empty, again I darted into the aisle, and this time took a little bit of time to look at the pictures on the packages. Just find what Mom got me and get out of here.

As I began studying the pictures, an entire Polynesian family of women moseyed into the aisle. What the heck?! Where had they come from and so quickly?! I knew I had made sure that nobody was coming from any direction. The moment they entered the aisle, I made awkward eye contact with the matriarch. I quickly moved my glance away and grabbed what looked like the same style of maxi-pads Mom had provided, this time opting for the highest priced brand. Again, I buried the package under a bunch of stuff I didn’t need, and quickly made my way out of the store.

I was so happy to be done with that forever.

Oh, did I mention that just in case anyone recognized me from shopping trip #1, I wore my sunglasses and a baseball cap on trip #2? I also avoided the first checkout lady and took the only other checkout option. A dude. I promise you. Dudes don’t want dudes seeing them buy maxi-pads. But it’s better than anyone seeing me buy them twice.

Lesson I would learn soon after: There are different sizes of maxi-pads. Why I didn’t think about the fact that humans are different sizes shows you just what kind of emotional state I was in. My thinker weren’t workin’ too well.

When I got home I was surprised to discover that I had grabbed a pack of extra-small maxi-pads.

I am 6’4”. 230 lbs.

I am a big, big man.

Again, use your imagination. Extra-small would not work for me.

I learned that lesson very quickly after trying to use them anyway.

And back to the store I went. This time, a different store. There was no way I could buy maxi-pads from the same store three times in one day. Not that I had any resemblance of a man-card left to be ripped up at that point anyway.


Desperately not wanting there to be a shopping trip #4, I changed my mindset as I entered the aisle. I held my head high and acted like I wasn’t bothered a bit. This actually helped, fellas. If you ever find yourself buying these things, confidence is key.

I took my time.

I didn’t worry about who entered the aisle and who didn’t.

I studied all the products. I compared them. I took my time to see what all the options were and what would be best for me. I even awkwardly smiled all giant-like at one lady as she passed by. My thoughts were probably loud and clear through my obvious insincerity. I’m so lost at the moment, but this is my life right now, and I’m going to own it.

Guys. Men. Hombres. Dudes. There is a reason there is an entire aisle dedicated to this stuff. Bleeding from your “down there” is a complicated business with a crudload of variables that we have (guaranteed) never thought of as we go about our lives being men.

Lesson I would learn soon after: You get what you pay for. Yes, I learned this with the lesson of the saggy burrito, but this time I learned it on the high-end side.

Buying the best pads made a huge difference. It made a difference to my comfort. It made a difference to my confidence level as I walked around the world thereafter with an ultra-thin yet ultra-effective maxi-pad in my pants. It made a difference to my clothes being destroyed or not. I learned that I should encourage any woman in my future to always buy whatever period products she needs, at any price. Guys… If a woman wants tampons made of solid gold, smile and hand her your credit card. Life will be better for both of you if you do.


I just wrote over 2,000 words on maxi-pads. Obviously this experience greatly affected my life, fellas.

When I was married I was a total man about this. I didn’t want to hear about it. I thought it was disgusting. I let her know I thought it was disgusting when the conversation was brought up. I was bothered by its timing whenever it happened, because it ever-so-slightly affected my life. I had little snit-fits and refused to enter the aisle with her when she needed them because the very thought was horrifying.

I was a really good husband a lot of the time, but I was a really crappy husband in that area of life. A complete wank. A total tool.

Men. I’m betting many of you are, too.

Don’t be.

We should really have more sympathy for the women of this world. A lot more sympathy for them. They go through this nonsense MONTHLY. It lasts at least three days for them. Sometimes much longer. That’s at least 10% of their entire month that they’re dealing with all those things plus many I’m sure I never got to learn.

I am warning you now. If you are as I once was, which is uncaring, void of empathy, and oblivious…

There is a good chance the universe will find a way to put a saggy burrito into the back of your pants for a few weeks, too.

Do not let it get to that point. Make better man-decisions today.

Dan Pearce, Single Dad Laughing

PS. Men… my next question is, are you man enough to post this on your Facebook wall?

And women, I consulted exactly zero of you about this before I wrote it because I wanted it to be purely from a man’s perspective. How close did I get?

And are you joining in the Single Dad Laughing fun on Facebook yet? I hope so because we have a little bit too much fun over there.

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Dan Pearce is an American-born author, app developer, photographer, and artist. This blog, Single Dad Laughing, is what he's most known for, with more than 2 million daily subscribers as of 2017. Pearce writes mostly humorous and introspective works, as well as his musings which span from fatherhood, to dating, to life, to the people and dynamics of society. Single Dad Laughing is much more than a blog. It's an incredible community of people just being real and awesome together!