When I was a little girl if anything ailed me, my mom immediately decided it was because I was constipated.
Chick: Mom! My stomach hurts!
Chick's mom: You must be constipated!
C: Mom! My head hurts!
CM: You must be constipated!
C: MOM! A large dog just bit me and my leg is bleeding profusely!
CM: Well. Sounds like constipation to me.
Clearly, my mom has no advanced medical training. Clearly.
Now that I am a grown-up and my diet includes copious amounts of fiber, apparently constipation is no longer my primary issue. This has been replaced, however, by Agent Orange.
See, my dad was in Vietnam. My limited understanding of Agent Orange is that it was used primarily between the years of 1961-1971. My dad was in Vietnam between 1970 and 1971. He probably was exposed to it, no doubt, and there is a small potential that it did cause some problems. But I do not think this is the answer for every issue.
C: Mom, I am really stressed out about work.
CM: You probably wouldn't be so stressed had your dad not been exposed to Agent Orange.
C: Well, I fell down the stairs last night and bruised my butt really badly.
CM: That darn Agent Orange has made you so clumsy!
C: My physician said that I'm infertile and possibly sterile and I'm having a hard time dealing with it.
CM: It's probably that Agent Orange causing you to be infertile and possibly sterile! Stupid war!
If only all of life's problems were so easy to solve. Either take a laxative or blame it on the Vietnam War.