So, I'm in the shower the other day, humming a little tune and in a generally good mood, when I glance over at the ledge which is supposed to hold innocuous shower stuffs, and I stop cold in mid-songbird. There it was, just staring at me... a pubic hair!
Uber-annoying Janice on Friends couldn't have said it any better. Oh. My. Gawd!
|Oh. My. Gawd.|
If you don't have to deal with OPP, then you are one lucky mama, but I am forced to deal with it often. First of all, I have to clean the toilets in this joint. Trust me, the hairs of nether-region origin hang out there.
Let me be the first to point out that there are substances on toilets that many mere humans will not even touch, especially if they belong to someone else or in this case, fell off of or out of someone else. I must touch these things because it is my domestic duty. That means nobody else in the house will do it, so I am forced to scrub the toilets.
Worse yet, I clean for a relative and I have to deal with OPP there also. Housekeepers of the world, may I just say that the respect I have for you is great. Other people's pubes are one thing when it's your own house and your own tribe, but when you have to cleanse a foreign toilet of its ookies, well, that takes a special person. I am that special person.
So the pubic hair in my shower was not that surprising since the shower is location number two on the Family Feud board when asked, "Places you might find a pubic hair," but I just couldn't figure out how it got up there! It should be at hip level and go down, not rise up to greet me on the shelf at shoulder level somehow, not a foot from my face, agreed? I do expect agreement here.
If it's in the bottom of the shower, you can take care of it much easier. You can poke it with a toe and guide water its way to coax it down the drain. But up there? Well, that takes ingenuity to get it down the drain without touching it with your hand. You have to fashion a water irrigation system out of your body parts that will reach the hair with the right angle and force to dislodge it and send it drainward.
I accomplished the task with some difficulty and body contortion, for the angle was high, my friends, being up on the shelf and all.
I pondered how it came to be there in the first place while I finished my shower. In case you were wondering, singing was now out of the question.
It could have hitched a ride on a bar of soap, undetected... you know, stealth mode. That happens. I get that. However, there was no bar of soap in the vicinity.
It could have been from our teen daughter who insisted on using our shower because hers was clogged with what else, HAIR! It would not drain, leaving her and her sister standing ankle deep in water. Instead of cleaning out the drain, she did the lazy teenager thing and jumped ship... er, shower and invaded ours. Eww! Not my daughter's pube, puh-lease!
Trust me, I fixed their shower after this particular OPP incident, just in case. There was a substance in there I can barely speak of, much of which was hair. Hair and other gag-me substance. Oh, and also a part of a razor and naturally, a hair tie.
Back to my shower... the pube could have been placed there by Clarence Thomas or Anita Hill. This would be a heck of a conspiracy theory and is the least likely scenario.
And of course, don't forget the irrational fear version. It could have crawled there on its own accord and positioned itself there just to startle me. You know, a different kind of OPP - otherworldly paranormal pubes.
Isn't it funny how we can tolerate OPP in sexual situations with our spouse, but in the wrong setting, one tiny hair freaks us the crap out? Truth is, my husband has curly black hair at the base of his neck that could pose as a pubic hair if it got long enough. I'm hoping that's what was really in the shower. I'd be much less traumatized if it was a rogue neck hair.
Hey, a girl can dream, right?