An Open Letter to My Ovaries

Dear Ovaries,

Yes its me, the 'vessel' as you so kindly refer to me as. Its been a long time since we've actually talked, as opposed to the delph throwing that's been going on for the last few months. I appreciate that not consulting with you about the intrusions you started expierencing around last May wasn't the best of ideas. but how was I to know you lot would get in such a strop? Let me start by defining the job of an ovary and perhaps we can work from there. To go all clinical on you:

ovaries are the two female organs that produce ova and female sex hormones located on either side of the uterus near the ends of the Fallopian tubes.

Let me translate. The uterus is what you refer to as the jiggy jiggy room and the Fallopian Tube is where you guys watch Big Brother? Any clearer?

Since last May, there have been one or two, slight understatement , little fellas joining you looking for a bit of attention and action shall we say. Now I know they can be rude and at times quite brash, but is there any need to boot them back down the fallopain tube as soon as they swim all the way up it? Your behaviour of late has been nothing short of shocking. Out all hours, bottles of gin lying around the place, falling in the door at 3 in the morning , eyeing up Mammy2 because you're feeling horny. You know the rules. And yet you consisently ignore the little swimmers. How on earth are you going to move up the career ladder if your entire life consists of getting hammered, hanging around the top of the fallopians smoking and drinking, and then throwing yourself down it like a slide at mosney and attaching yourself via staples to the inside of the womb, which is when you start expressing an interest in the swimmers who at this stage are nursing broken tails.

You can also be quite cruel to some of the other organs. Referring to the kidney as the piss pot is not nice , likewise mentioning the liver tasting lovely with some onions and gravy isn't going to win you any friends. Don't tell me its someone else, the constant cackling gives you away. You sound like someone who smokes 60 a day.

Don't think I don't notice the extra ructions you kick up then when period time comes around either.
So, we are all adults here. We all know the story. Around the time for you to head down the fallopian tubes can you practice being a little more Zen? Leave out some tea and cookies for the swimmers. Welcome them? Maybe then my innards would be less like Iraq and more like Tasmania. I do think we can work this out and the end result will be a bouncing baby and then you will be so proud of yourselves. Don't you want a picture to hang on the wall of the ovum?
I would recommend yoga but I hear the classes for your size are quite limited. So can you mark the calendar for the next effort and lets give this a go?

Yours sincerely,
The Vessel.