Since I have a midwife appt in 1.5 hours during which my coochie will be bared to her for the first time (EXCITEMENT!), I decided it was time to stop delaying my shaving and get it done. Chris has been encouraging me to use his electric trimmer thing for this task, since the thought of an actual razor down there with so small a field of vision available is frightening to us both.
There I am, straddling the side of the bathtub, a magnification mirror set under me to try and keep an eye on what’s going on, happily shearing myself like a sheep. And I will just say that there was an astonishing amount of ‘wool’ coming off this sheep.
So what happens?
THE TRIMMER RUNS OUT OF POWER.
I am half-shorn. I have 60 minutes to remedy this, or I will be making my midwife laugh. Hard.