A book review....of sorts

     I read a book recently, this in itself is not unusual but what was out of the ordinary was that it made me think quite a bit afterwards. The book in question was Caitlin Moran's How to be a Woman and although she made a lot of valid points about what it is to be a feminist, the part I kept going back to is that of pubes. In the book it is suggested that we should be all proud of our pubes and grow magnificent bushes and not bother with the very modern phenomenon of waxing let alone vajazzling. I will lay my cards on the table, I get waxed. Everything. I used to do a DIY job with Veet cream, but one chemical burn too many in my intimate area meant I left my very personal grooming in the capable hands of one of my good friends at the local beauty salon.
     When I read How to be a Woman, it made me think, why do I feel the need to inflict this pain on myself? To let someone spread hot wax on my genital area, stick a strip of cotton on to the hot wax then pull it off, bringing all the hair in that area with it would be considered a torturous thing by some. I've been doing it for years now and I book the next appointment automatically. Then I remembered. My pubes are ugly in the extreme. They are not curly, thick and lustrous in a very 1970's porn film style. (If they were, I would ROCK that look) What they are, if left to their own devices is like spider legs or mouse whiskers. Sparse, straight and with no respect for a bikini line.




     While I'm on the subject of my foof and the related area, the last time I was at the midwife's she wrote in my notes '2/5'. 'Two fifths?' I questioned 'What does that mean?' So the midwife explained that having examined me she could only feel two fifths of the baby's head, the rest being in my pelvis. I relayed this to my husband later on when he came home from work over our tea of lasagna (the lasagna isn't important).

     Later still, while in bed we embarked on a bit of sexy time. After a very valiant effort on both our parts  - fighting back heartburn while giving a rather excellent blow job anyone?  My husband owned up to the fact that he couldn't carry on because the baby was 'too close'

     So now I have a new reason as to why I cant wait for the baby to arrive to add to my ever increasing list. See if you can spot the new one.

- I'll be able to pick things up off the floor again
- Bad back and hips will get better
- I won't need to piss every five minutes
- Heartburn will become a thing of the past
- Hello again to pate and soft cheese
- ALCOHOL
- A return to some hot and dirty sex - fucking get in (so to speak)