A childhood belief about periods

At the age of around six I overhead my mother talking to an older cousin about periods. I could tell this was grown up business from the hushed tones they spoke in. I asked what was a period, and was told rather mystically (or so I remember) that I would know I had grown up when I got an egg with blood in it.

This entirely changed the context of boiled/poached/fried eggs for me. I would become alarmed as soon as I saw one on my dinner plate, and hack it to bits for fear it might contain the blood of my transition to womanhood.

A few years later, classroom gossip revealed that, in fact, I would require pads to cover my nipples from which blood would squirt ferociously during this perplexing and scary monthly occurence.

And they say childhood is the best time of your life.