The Tub

Oh the joys of shaving your legs in the tub. Mid morning, day off- fill the bath tub with the perfect temperature of water, pamper yourself. You’ve even splurged and bought a new razor and the nice shaving cream. Stretch out your legs. Point your toes like the ballerina your mother told you you could never become. Elegantly reach out your arm to your ankle, push aside the extra five pounds on your stomach that will never ever leave and begin. The sound of your unwanted hair being shaved clean off your body… “Ahhhh….” you think, “Now I feel like a lady.”

Lift your arms, lather and enjoy the last few moments of fury softness. Hear the sound of the razor against your skin, a soft shhhhhhhhhh, like the soothing coos of mid nightmare reassurances. Rinse the razor in your warm tub of heavenly hot water. The floating bits of shaving cream, the little hairs, floating free in their murky water home, ready to make their way back to the ocean.

Stand and examine what has overgrown in your nether regions. Carefully evaluate the damage done by your thoughtless neglect, lather up and hack away. Extend one leg at a time and be sure to admire the little valley in your hip socket between the unspeakable, the roundness of your bum and the start of your leg. This little space never looks so lovely as when you’re about to shave, hollowed out for just a moment. Carefully and blindly maneuver in a way that is sure to obtain maximum hairless results with minimal nicking. Fondly pinch that little inch of fat on the inside of your thighs and kindly remember that picture with the font that read “My thighs are so sexy they can’t stop touching each other.”

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