There’s something about these particular life circumstances combined with reduced brain oxygen due to lingering minor illnesses that has the distinct – and unfortunate – side effect of making me even more candid than usual.
And this is not good.
The only thing that could make this worse would be if I were to sip a bloody mary, too.
It’s been going on for a few days. Don’t anyone ask me anything in the comment section. I assure you I cannot resist telling you everything you never wanted to know, and more. And, i kinda ALREADY do that, so this is a whole new level and just, you know, beware.
Caden-8yr asked my mom, in all seriousness, if I was going to die from this illness. She said no. I might embarrass us all to death, but that is different. Suddenly, I’m like the oldest old lady on Golden Girls who just says whatever comes into her head.
Last night Mom and I went to pick up a Craigslist dresser and then to a baseball game and she was commenting on a particular type of surgical procedure and said, “that just seems a lot of trouble and expense to go to for someplace not often… SEEN.”
“Yes. Like vajazzling. Exactly like vajazzling. A lot of trouble and expense for someplace not often seen.”
Just that morning I had bought Hello Kitty underwear from the LITTLE GIRLS section of Target as a depressed gesture at life about how I will never ever have use for sexy underwear again. May as well buy the cheap Hello Kitty panties. WHY THE HELL NOT. Embrace the new life and its new, sexless dress code. (Hello, damn Kitty, indeed.)
Mom said, “Did you say… vajazzling?”
“Yeah. I did. You know. Trouble and expense – place not often seen. Yeah.” Sigh.
“But what IS that?”
“Um… i guess it’s where after a brazilian, you stick little rhinestone thingies on your vagina. Like bedazzling for the vagina. I think there’s the cheap ones like rhinestone stickers like they sell at Hobby Lobby, but there’s also the kind that a professional could glue on you in different patterns and it would last a week or so.”
“Are you making this UP?”
Like I could make up that some women want to turn their vaginas into disco balls? i wouldn’t make that up. I COULDN”T make that up. i think it’s all a bit insecure really. And trust me, I get that right now. But ladies, God didn’t create and design men to get excited by the light reflective sparkliness of vaginas. I’m PRETTY sure on that one. And if I’m wrong and yours loves that, well, good luck, dear.
“You could google it. Go ahead.”
“Yeah, okay, good call.”
“Professional VAJAZZLERS? Who would WANT that job?”
“I don’t know. But I think it’d be better to artfully arrange rhinestones on someone’s vagina than to wax and rip the hair off. THAT has to be a hard job. I mean, don’t you think–”
She did some hand waving motion and loudly changed the topic because she’d reached her limit with that discussion. She’s doing that a lot with me lately because it is NECESSARY.
Later, at the baseball game she needed to grab my arm and clamp a hand over my mouth. And – it was really NEEDED. It wasn’t quite soon enough. Caden-8yr was giggling his head off at the inappropriate turn my indignant lecture directed at him had taken and I couldn’t shut my own mouth without that mama takedown move.
I’m a MESS.
I’ll be careful.
I hope it wears off soon.
(And, no, don’t worry, i will NOT talk to strangers.)