I honestly cannot tell you when I last shaved my legs. Days? Absolutely. Weeks? Most definitely. A month? Quite possibly. I just know that when I look down at my legs they look like my legs from middle school and most of high school.
My mother refused to let us shave. Nair was a proper solution, except that I was severely allergic to whatever crazy chemical that is in Nair that BURNS YOUR HAIR OFF. How this was safer than a razor? I have no clue.
Have I worn shorts recently and proudly showed of my hairiness? Uh huh. (See 5K)
Am I a feminist who doesn't believe in shaving? Nope.
Am I just incredibly lazy? You betcha.
I am so lazy, in fact, that I'm considering waiting to shave until right before The Hubby is scheduled to be home. His return is fortunately so soon that I can definitely hold off. No one gets close enough to me to see the hairs on my legs, anyway! This reasoning also applies to giving Bella a bath. Her stench has penetrated our carpets.
I know that after this you find me wildly attractive. I'm quite a catch, aren't I?
I feel bad for The Hubby who has to shave his face daily. Sucka!
Please tell me I'm not alone in this.