Wax off, wax on Mamasan

If you don't feel like getting some nitty gritty on girly stuff, this might be a good time to partially cover your eyes.

Recently, I went to the spa for a little personal grooming. While there, I noticed a woman and her teen daughter in the waiting room. The girl looked all of thirteen. This is a very specialized spa in that they do nothing but waxing. I asked my licensed torturer esthetician if they did mother - daughter days. I was joking. She laughed and said no but that both of the women in the waiting room were also her clients. Bless that heart of yours if you, as a teen, willingly go and get waxed. And we are not talking eyebrows either.

Did we, as teen girls, even know about waxing? I most certainly did not. In fact, waxing didn't become a "to do" until much much later in my life. Ay carumba.

Now, on a previous long ago visit to this service provider, I once dared to go all out. Oh, you know what I mean. Viva Brazil. After I winced in pain and issued horrible bouts of profanity, she assured me it would last for weeks. Ummmm. Not quite.

So I decided, this particular grooming technique wouldn't be a long term plan. And perhaps this type of treatment was a bit S&M for me. Oh, I know some of you say you get used to the pain. Mmm hmm. I could get used to living in hell to but why would I ?

So bikini line, fine with me, and I will manage my own situation. Trust me, I am not going all 70's style. I have ways and means to take care of business.

However, when I was pregnant, and due date was approaching, I realized that I might need to do a little extra maintenance before game day.

Hey, try this, shove a Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade float under your shirt. Now, grab your favorite trimming device, and attempt to bend over to do your work without cutting a main vein. GOOD LUCK. My ob-gyn asked what happened to the inside of my leg and I told her Freddy Krueger gave me a massage.

Going forward, I made sure I became much more skilled with such tools.

But then, fast forward to the romantic weekend romp we planned six months after our son was born. Just a little break from baby. You know how much sex you are having with a six month old at home? Not enough.

So I decided, hey racy lady, let's revisit Brazil and turn it up a notch for the Hub. So back to the spa I go. And I handled it 1% better this time in that I didn't have a puffy cry baby face when I left. Until the next day. When I had an slight allergic reaction to the wax.

areyou*&#%%@ kiddingme?

Allergic reaction. Hmmmmm. I couldn't just have an easy one, like, allergic to lycopene and your tongue swells a little. Or maybe a hive or two. No. That's not what I got.

Allergic reaction. How does an allergic allergic reaction to wax used for a Brazilian feel? Go submerge your eye in a river of hot lava and you'll be close.

Do you know who knows nothing about it? JohnnyMac. The good stuff was off limits for the entire weekend. Romantic weekends are SO romantic when you are suggesting cold showers. Or sleep. Or more cold showers.

I discretely called my service provider and asked her what to do. She told me to sprinkle a little white powder on my situation. White powder? Ummmm, there wasn't enough little white powder in ALL of Babies R Us OR in all of Bogota to cure what was ailing me.

Brazilian Wax sent me a message: I am too sexy for you. You are not strong enough for me.
I soon recovered and returned to a state of Zen for my girly bits and shall NEVER revisit that mistake again.