Teary-eyed and breathless, your father held you — face beet red. This wasn’t something you were taught about. It just happened.

Dutch, on the other hand, knew exactly what was occurring. And he was extremely ill-equipped. How could he explain something he had hardly any experience with.

“Darling, you’re not dying!” He reassured your worries with a breathless laugh, very awkward in its delivery.

“It’s called a period. It’s natural at your age.” Your father explained, rubbing your back.