Pennies and Periods

I don’t remember my first period in detail....

I do, however, remember the first time I was given the menstruation talk, so we’ll delve into that instead.  Don’t worry, it doesn’t get graphic.  At least not in the way you might be thinking.

Growing up, my sister and I shared the top story of our family home.  It was a bit like a finished attic, there was no doorway, just a stairwell that led up to the space we’d made our haven.  

We had some very unusual games that we’d played - as most young kids did, and we were curious about sexuality - as most kids are.  We had no words, concepts or ideas to define what “sexuality” was, though, other than what we’d seen in the movies and on TV.  Sexuality, it seemed, was very grown up.  

One evening, when my sister and I were about seven, our parents were busy trying to force our older brothers to do their homework and we came across a giant, and I mean GIANT bag of pennies.  I’m talking, we had to work together to move this bag, kind of big bag of pennies.  So, naturally, we ensured the coast was clear and we stuffed the big bag of wonder under my bed until we were alone and could figure out what to do with our new treasure.  And naturally, none of our ideas had anything to do with consumer purchases.

So we waited.  And after the dishes were done and our lunches were packed, our bodies were scrubbed and we were clothed in attire meant for dreamland, my sister and I headed up to our haven.  Certain that our parents were pre-occupied, we hauled the bag onto my sister’s bed and dumped out our treasure onto her comforter.  It was glorious.

We stared at the mix of rust and sheen for a long moment before finally, I outstretched my hand.  I picked up a single penny, dropped it, and then submerged both of my hands into the cool copper pile.  It was a sensation entirely foreign to me.  I thought of Scrooge McDuck and the crew from Ducktales.  From here, my mind drifted to all of the images I had of money and the odd sensuality that accompanied it.

My sister was running her hands through the pile at this point as well.  The two of us sat there giggling, minds racing with the stimuli of foreign sensation.

In a moment of impulse, I lifted a handful of coins over my head and poured them down over my head and body.  Just like the movies.  My sister immediately followed suit and in moments, we were on our knees laughing and showering ourselves in money.  With images of a grandiose atmosphere surrounding us, we were immediately transported to a world of extravagance and luxury.

“Okay Girls.” she said.

“It’s time.”

My step mom turned away from our bedroom and descended the stairwell, returning not two minutes later with her hands held behind her back.

Sitting on the bed with us and our treasure, my step mom proceeded to tell my sister and myself about the menstruation cycle of women, what we were to expect and how to properly care for our bodies while going through this experience.

We sat in silence the entire time.  Having no idea what the relationship was between stealing pennies and puberty, we sat.  In paralyzed anticipation.  What was happening?  Were we being punished?  Why were we talking about vaginas before bed?

After a short while, my step mom raised herself off of my sister’s bed to leave.  She left us two pads and two tampons to open up and look at in our own time.  

She reached the stairs, readying herself for her next task - convincing our brothers to stop eating and go to bed, and turned back to us 

“Girls, money is very dirty.” she said.

“You shouldn’t put it anywhere near your Vagina.”

And that was it.

A little dumbstruck, my sister and I picked up all of the pennies and replaced them in bag before crawling into bed.  

We each pulled out the feminine hygiene products given to us and poked at them curiously until “lights out” was called.

That night I closed my eyes and drifted through dream land on a giant Maxi-pad, pockets filled with pennies.