to that nagging little voice that tells you that you might ought to shave your legs the morning before you trot off to your doctor’s appointment. Instead of doing what I did and think that he’s not the kind of doctor that should make you strip down to the paper gown and think “Nah! Who’s gonna see them?”
I mean, honestly, it’s winter. I wear pants or skirts with boots to work. I wear sweats at home, pajamas to bed. Even I don’t see my legs till the sun comes out! Well, a neurologist DOES make you put on the paper gown and there my Mo’nique legs were in all their glory. (I do NOT know how that woman does it!)
Of course, since I was mortified, I commented on how if I’d have known, I’d have shaved the legs. In his driest sense of humor, he said, “I don’t care. I don’t shave my legs either.” Haha!
Suffice it to say. . . I shaved the monsters this morning. A day late and a dollar short. Just thought everyone should be kept aprized of the national event.
Another nagging little thought. . . Why do I have a zit at nearly 50 years old? I thought wrinkles were the trade-off for those nasty, little buggars.