Wednesday, January 25, 2012

The lesser of two evils

Everyone has a breaking point, and I finally reached mine. I’m done… had it with the whole process.  I’m talking about grooming the peekacho.  With 2 small children, there are times when my area's overgrowth resembles something from the 70s.  When that happens, it takes a shot of vodka and a Xanex just to make the call for a waxing appointment.  The only logical answer to my woe is laser hair removal… taking care of my lady business once and for all sounds like a gem of an idea.

My first appointment was Monday.  After arriving at the derm’s office, imagine my surprise when discovering that the performing doctor was in fact, a male.  I will be the first one to tell you that once you push a baby out of your hoo-ha, a lot of humility and modesty gets pushed out with it.  But this was too much.  Lying on a table wearing nothing but socks and a t-shirt while a guy asked me what “shape” I wanted was enough to make me long for a cocktail and an unapologetic Eastern European lady pouring hot wax on my goodies.



  1. Well, did you go with the landing strip or the Hollywood? You know I always opt for Hollywood


  2. Why do they make the hair pink in the pic?

  3. Dum,

    That is a quandry. Maybe pink is hair-color generic? So, you can be a fire crotch, blonde, brunette or like me (salt and pepper) and the pink the doesn't alarm the brain.

    Either way, it's should all come off. Get to your waxer STAT.