Friday, June 11, 2010

Waxing: A Spiritual Journey

It brings tears to my eyes just thinking about it. And not the good kind of tears. I mean the kind of tears you get when you stub your toe really hard on the door jamb.

Hubby thought he would treat me to a day of "pampering" in honor of Mother's Day. He acquired some gift certificates at an auction for next to nothing, not knowing exactly what they were for. He just knew they were for "girl stuff". Well, in reality, they were for waxing and reflexology. One word: ouch.

I decided to just go with it and have a full leg wax done (hey, summer's coming!). Now, this just shows how naive I am about the ways of the world. You see, the extent of my previous waxing experience has been limited to my eyebrows. Eyebrows.... A thin two-inch strip of hair. Piece of cake! My thick stumps, however, have approximately 50 square feet of surface area covered with hair that must be torn out by the roots. Why did I think that was a good idea?

As the gal started spreading the warm wax on a large strip of my lower leg, we began chatting amiably-- just like old friends. Yakity yak yak yak yak! Oh, isn't this fun-- just us girls? Then she placed a strip of muslin over the waxed area, and I was like a lamb being led to slaughter. Blah blah blah blah blah RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIP! I immediately stopped talking as unbidden tears sprang to my eyes. I didn't utter a cry (I have my pride!) but inside my head I was screaming. I think perhaps a profane word or two may have crossed my mind in that moment-- forgive me! I quickly assessed the situation. Can I go on? She has another 49 square feet to go! Will I make it?? But before I could even finish my thought, RIIIIIIIIIIIIIP! Take me now, Lord! Jesus, please! RIIIIIIIIIIIIIP! Father God, I know I'm a sinner! I'm asking for forgiveness right now! Have mercy on me! RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIP! Lord, I am prepared to offer you double the amount of Bible reading and prayer in exchange for rescue! RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIP! Triple! RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIP! Oh. My. Gosh. I. Am. Going. To. DIE! RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIP!

An hour later, when it was all over, I lay there like a limp rag doll feeling utterly abused and violated. But, hey, I had legs as smooth as a baby's bottom! (Albeit quite red and irritated from all that misuse.) But I recovered enough to remember to thank the girl. (Thank her for...what? Her supreme skill in torture? Is torture a tip-able service? Why yes, indeed it is.)

Shake it off, girl! Reflexology is next! Ahhhhh-- a foot massage! Oh, naivety, how long will you afflict me? Reflexology has more to do with therapy than it does massage, I found out. It would be like if you sauntered over to the Chiropractor for an indulgent afternoon of vertebrae alignment. Not exactly a relaxing way to pamper yourself. (Or, who knows, maybe some of you actually look forward to getting your necks snapped gangster style?) By the end of it I was dizzy and out of breath-- from a lack of normal inhale/exhale action. But reflexology is also a tip-able service. So I coughed up more of my hard-earned cash and teetered out with a whimpered "thank you" on my lips. I am SO glad I wasn't busted for drunk driving on the way home.

Hubby came through the door after work smiling. "How was it?" he asked, wanting to hear all about my, er...fun day. My mind raced back through the last few excruciating hours of my life. "Awesome! Thank you so much, babe. You're the best!" Just lead me to the Tylenol and let me crash on the couch-- this girl is all pampered-out.

And God, whatever I did, I am SO sorry!


2 comments:

  1. You made me laugh so hard I'm crying...Lordy. Oh dear. Love you - SP

    ReplyDelete
  2. I was laughing so hard I nearly choked.

    ReplyDelete

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