I had no idea

Full disclosure: If you and I are just getting to know each other, or we're related, you probably want to skip this post.  If you don't heed my advance and brutally honest warning, you can't say you weren't warned.  And if you decide not to be my friend, I'll understand, but family?  Well, you're screwed.  Sorry.

So I was in the shower today after a long sweaty run this morning.  If you don't know me, you don't know that I have long hair.  I mean LONG LONG hair, long hair for a 41 year old married mother of two kids. 

If I were still 21 it would work for me, but I'm 41 and too lazy to cut it.  So, yeah, it's excessively long.

If you HAVE long hair, you'll know what I'm going to tell you.  If you don't, trust me I'm totally not making this up.

Washing & conditioning my hair also takes a really long time.  The scrubbing in the shampoo part takes FOR-EV-ER, as does the conditioner rising.  So I have lots of time during the final rinse to notice (today) that there's a couple long hairs that have now washed down into my butt crack.

I'm a thin lady, but trust me I have enough junk in my trunk that I do still have two hamburger buns, one for each cheek.  There's enough fatty tissue there to create a space where long hair can slip into, and then get stuck.

As the water runs down your back you can feel it pulling on those little dangling participles trapped in your ass crack.  And, in the interest of being open, I'm telling you there's no good, polite, lady like way to get them out.  You have to pull them out.  And it's not easy because you have to kind of DIG in there to get them.

And when you do, you will be in for the shock of your life (well, at least I WAS in for the shock of my life).  I found hair in my butt.  HAIR.  IN MY BUTT.  And not like hair on your arm hair, oh no, it's hairy hair hair.  Gross. 

And before you think "how does she not know she has hair in her ass? does she not WASH back there?" I assure you I do, but I use one of those poofy sponge thingys, my bare hand has not been back there scrubbing my rear bumper.

Don't say I didn't I gave you fair warning about this post.  You have no one to blame but yourself if you've made it this far.  Kind of like a Madonna video, you're finding it hard to look away, you're hooked, you're stuck and you're really going to be grossed out in a minute.

Instantly, and I mean IMMEDIATELY I felt a rush of horror, the likes of which I last felt while watching the movie Friday the 13th in Lynnae's basement on Halloween in the 9th grade. 

HORROR. 

I realized that as that doctor was shoving that camera in my ass last month, he had to push it through a mangy patch of what I imagine to be dark ass hair.  Or, ass hair that is dark.  And mangy.  You dig?

Then, another wave of terror: I'm going back soon for the second round.  Immediately I think, should I wax it?  Bleach it?  Is that what "bleaching your butthole" is? 

Thank you Google, old friend.  I learned far more about ass hair, waxing and bleaching in a five minute google search than most married 41 year old mothers learn in their entire lives.

And I can say based on my very thorough research (and my instant scrubbing of our search history) that the next guy is, unfortunately, going to have to part the black seas, so to speak. 

I don't even want a physician near my ass crack, certainly not someone with piercings in unsavory places and low standards on hygiene.  Nope, I'm going au natural and I hope to hell that's a normal thing. 

If going in for a colonoscopy with ass hair is wrong, then I don't want to be right.