It’s no secret that I will never again wax my hoo-ha. But that doesn’t mean I don’t like to spruce up my nether region for Mr. Foxy. I mean, I don’t go crazy on the vaginal beautification front, but I like to keep things neat. Mostly that involves shaving.
Recently, however, my friend was describing how she kept her kitty “High and Tight,” meaning short all over and clean-shaven around the edges. Think “crew cut” for the lady down below.
As my wedding anniversary was approaching, I wanted to try something new and different for Mr. Foxy. “High and Tight” sounded like just the thing.
As the tactics of such a haircut started rushing into my head, I had a conversation with myself about this. Naturally.
Me: High and Tight, huh? What tools should I use?
Myself: Anything but scissors and that horrible torture device you used when you were young and stupid.
Me: Oh, dear God, no. That was like getting your pubes stuck in the tires of a remote control car
Myself: Yes, it was.
Me: How about Mr. Foxy’s beard trimmer?
Myself: That seems kind of wrong. You know, it being for Mr. Foxy’s beard and all. You know…on his face?
Me: Consider this your lady beard.
So there I was … standing over the toilet with a garbage can on the toilet lid. One leg was straddling the garbage can to catch the random hairs (I couldn’t become a pubic menace) while the other leg was on the ground, shaking a bit at the knee. Not my sexiest pose.
Me: This seems so wrong.
Myself: I just don’t want it to hurt.
Me: Here goes nothing.
But it didn’t hurt. Not even one little (lady) bit.
Myself: Oh hey. That’s rather nice. A little buzzing. No blood or flying follicles.
Me: You could keep going. And going… And going…
The actual trimming only took about a minute or so. But I kept going for a few more minutes … you know, just to be sure I was thorough. After I finished up, I started cleaning Mr. Foxy’s beard trimmer, and I got to thinking.
Me: Maybe you should have asked Mr. Foxy first.
Myself: WHY? Oh yeah. That was your hot pocket you just trimmed. Maybe it would have been polite to get permission.
Me: Should I tell him now?
Myself: ABSOLUTELY NOT!
Myself: Okay. You probably should. Maybe offer to buy him another trimmer? I wouldn’t mind keeping this one anyhow.
So me, myself, and I worked up the nerve to text Mr. Foxy and dish out my dirty little secret.
Me: I, uhhh, just used your beard trimmer on my (freshly showered) lady bits. After I did it, I realized I probably should have asked you first. I cleaned it very thoroughly, but I’ll buy you a new one if you want.
Mr. Foxy (not missing a beat): My beard has already spent time down there. It’s fine.
Whew. I was off the hook.
And the results? Well, let’s just say that Mr. Foxy was pleased with the new do and leave it at that. In fact, he was so pleased, he later told me, “I used your pubic hair trimmer on my face. Doesn’t my goatee look good?”
Photo Credit: wavebreakmediamicro / 123RF Stock Photo