Once at a family gathering a young man I didn't recognize sat next to me on the couch. I was probably 9. He was probably 19.
We were watching television. A commercial for maxi pads came on the screen, a man's hand pouring electric blue water onto the pad.
"This is what they make women's magazines for," the teen boy turned to me. He said it as though he'd read it in a text book. I nodded and made a mental note.