Recently I watched a television program about a woman due to give birth at any moment. Her midwife wanted the mother-to-be to talk to her uterus and vagina. Now, I'm not above talking to my body parts. You know that I've had numerous conversations with my new hip. However, I'm reluctant to talk to my uterus and vagina, especially as they are both as old as I am.
Can you imagine the conversation:
Me; Well, how are you guys holding up?
Uterus and vagina: Jane, how do you THINK we're holding up? We're each 61 years old. We're prolasped, prolonged, and pretty much worn out.
Me: Sorry I asked.
U & V: Well, you should be. Did you forget that we carried around four children for you and then pushed them out? And let's not forget that you saw fit to produce four extra-sized children whom your OB/GYN referred to as"tanks?"
Me: Sorry, again. But I refuse to take all the blame for this extra-sized children. My husband had a lot to do with it.
U & V: Excuses, excuses. All we know is that we were the ones doing the work. Where was your husband during the heavy lifting of child-bearing?
Me: He was off having breakfast. (This is literally true. The Wretch saw fit to go and have breakfast while I was pushing out HIS progeny.)
U & V: Okay. Now we're the ones who are sorry. You deserved better.
Me: You got that right.
Gem for the day: the next time you're tempted to have a converation with your lady parts, be careful. They might be like mine and give you an earful.