(no subject)

It's early morning, and Rainette is making sandwiches and enjoying a quiet moment on her own.

Suddenly a piercing howl breaks the silence. Rainette drops the knife she'd been wielding, narrowly missing a finger, and runs upstairs as fast as she can, narrowly missing a trio of bewildered cats who are all headed in the opposite direction.

In the bathroom, Froglet is wailing and starting to hyperventilate.

Rainette: What? WHAT? WHAT?????
Froglet: MY HAIR!!!!! LOOK AT MY HAIR!!!!!!! IT'S ALL WRONG AND POUFFY AND UGH!!!
Rainette: ...

*********************
Dear Puberty,

I understand that you have to happen, but of all the symptoms of your impending arrival, Permanent PMS is my least favourite. Is there a way I could convince you to exchange that for any other symptom of your liking -- boobage, body hair, period -- except for the increase in body odor, which I am not looking forward to either?

Many thanks in advance,
Rainette
**********************


Froglet *is still wailing in front of the mirror*
Husband *arrives groggily, comb in hand, because he is an awesome dad*
Froglet: UGH UGH LOOK AT MY HAIR I CAN'T GO TO SCHOOL LIKE THAT.
Husband: Here, I will help you. *starts working on hair, parts this way and that*
Hair *sticks up here and there*
Husband: Hair gel*, maybe?
Froglet: NO. NEVER.
Husband *cheerfully* How about this, then? *combs her hair over her face, letting only the nose stick out* You look like the Addam's Family's Pet, now. You can't see yourself in the mirror anymore, and nobody else will recognise you either, I think you're good to go, yes?
Rainette: HUSBAND.
Husband *grins impishly*
Froglet *grunts her tramemark exasperated grunt*
Husband: How about we cut it all off?
Froglet: NO! YOU DON'T GET IT. RHHHHHUUUUH!!!!

*We always have Extra Strong hair gel handy, because of synchro competitions and BUNS. It's a little like flower-scented concrete, and needless to say, Froglet loathes the stuff.


**************************************
Dear Puberty,

OK, I'll take the increase in body odor too, if there is no other choice. Just please make this stop. I beg you.

Yours despairingly,
Rainette
***************************************



45 minutes later.

As Rainette rushes down the stairs after feeding the cats and turning off all the lights upstairs, Tadpole is standing in the hallway with her shoes on, her coat safely zipped up, and her bags in her hand. Froglet, however, is still standing in front of the mirror, brush in hand.

Rainette *takes deep breath*: Froglet, we're leaving now.
Froglet: I CAN'T! LOOK AT MY HAIR!!!
Rainette: Look, I will buy you a wig if that's what you want, but you and your hair will now proceed to the door because my day is about to start and I do not want to be late.
Froglet: I HATE MY HAIR!!!!! I HATE MY LIFE!!!!


*******************************
Dear Rainette,

Welcome to the next ten years of your life. FYI: there is no point in exchanging any symptoms for others, since all of them will manifest themselves at some point or other, whether you like it or not.

Good luck to you,
Puberty
*******************************


Rainette *pushes Froglet firmly out the door*
Froglet *wears her best "Nobody Understand Me" face*
Rainette: OK, hop in the car!
Froglet: OH SHIT *runs back to the house*
Rainette: WHAT NOW.
Froglet *from afar* I forgot my lunch box.
Rainette *shoots self*

THE END.