Thursday, February 10, 2011

The Tale of the Twat

Sniff, sniff- ooh time for a shower. In the beginning bathing me had been the duty of my beloved boyfriend Jason. And let me tell you that the best part of being a a quadapeligic are romantic sponge baths from your spouse. But when your mother decides to "help out" with the bathing duties forget about your boyfriend. The early days of team bathing (two or more people are needed to assist), my little sister dressed in her high school swim team suit held me up right in the shower while my take charge mother scrubbed me down with whatever foo-da-fa-fa shower gel sitting at arm's reach. Sitting cold and sudded up it was time for the washing of the bit bits. Uggg. I did not want my mom washing my picachu and was mentally preparing for this moment, practicing humility. By this time Jason checked out for some much needed down time away from his girlfriend. Before I coninue I must explain that during the transfer from my wheelchair to the shower chair my mom got a glimpse of the goodies and exclaimed, "You have a funny looking va-jay-jay! " I was mortified. My mother commenting on my apparently awkward female anatomy in front of Jason! I simply rolled my eyes. The damage was done. Back to the shower. Everything was washed except for my pische and the only other option was a dirty va-jay so go ahead mom. With loofah in hand she went to task. I suddenly let out a pain filled ouch. My mother with a bewildered look asked "what?" I dangerously looked back and said, "Be careful. Did you forget there is a love button down there!" Oops. That is why a boyfriend is better qualified for the bathing duties. The fastest lesson that every PALS is forced to quickly learn is humility, because everybody sees you nakie and some are bestowed the job of bathing your love button.