Subtract it

"Oh, God!" Martha said at the dinner table as the lasagna cooled. "My monthly curse! Do I hafta go through it, do I hafta?"

"Yes, darling," George replied, ever practical, "you gotta. There ain't no way of gettin' around it. Sometime in the next day or so, you gotta do it."

"But every month, it hits me like a freight train. It gets so that I can't stand up afterward. Sucks all the blood out o' me and leaves me feeling sick and tired. And crabby! I think I'd do anything to avoid it every month!" Martha sighed at the thought.

"Well, there is one thing, honey. I can help you out with that," said George, grinning ear to ear.

"Now THAT's going from the frying pan into the fire. My monthly curse and you want to do something to make it go away! I know what that's all about. No, we don't want any more mistakes than we've already made."

"Yeah, honey, I can see how you'd look at the past and think they're all mistakes," said George, agreeing with Martha.

"You got it. Nothing but trouble, nothing but trouble. And they've all made managing this household absolutely impossible. Can't get anything done around here because of all those mistakes." Regret mixed with anger in Martha's voice.

"Well, no matter what, honey, you gotta go through your monthly curse. Now after I've cleaned up from dinner, you go take care of your monthly curse. Balance our checkbook."