We also talk often of our beauty regiments because honestly, we’re not getting any younger. So of course, gray hair came up in the conversation. I told her how every time someone cuts my hair, I request they check for grays. Abby informed me that one of Bif's jobs is to be on gray hair lookout. (Not really sure if he likes that job, but it comes with the boyfriend territory. Prepares a man for much worse during marriage. I'm just sayin'...)
His other job is to help knead the knots out of her ass.
Yeah, you heard me right. And no, it's not a sexual thing. I have the same damn problem. I make Stoofy help massage my flabby ass often. You see, there's a pinched nerve deep in the fatty tissue that is my buttocks.
I think I read a long while ago (maybe like 10 years ago in health class) that women commonly have problems like this because of the way their nerves run through their pelvis. The shape of a woman's pelvis is different from a man's to make room for pushing a watermelon through her cu-ca during child birth. Basically to sum it all up, shit gets pinched. (Note: I am not a medical expert. If you try to use this as your own personal web-MD, I’ll laugh at you and call you a moron. If you have a problem, go to the doctor dumbass.)
WARNING: the next part is going to get real, folks!
My ass has been acting up pretty bad this last week. I got so desperate that I began to get creative with objects to help alleviate the pressure. (Stoofy's been working long hours and has no desire to punch his knuckles into my butt.) I found the most perfect thing in the whole house! It's seriously an object no woman should ever be without! (Especially if your man's not around to help!)
NO YOU PERV! Get your mind out of the gutter!
It's a spatula!
Yup, I was so desperate the other day in the kitchen that I whipped open the kitchen drawers and looked for something hard but gentle, long but thick, and pointy enough to get the job done. It just so happens that Abby has the most perfect spatula in her drawer and I snagged that bitch and immediately plunged it into the right side of my ass.
And wouldn't you know, it did the trick! That was the most relief I've had in days. I finally got full feeling back to my leg, no pinched pain radiating from the deepest of my pelvis.
After I was done, I did the right thing and threw it into the dishwasher to be sanitized. Because even though I didn't do anything inappropriate and I had clothes on the whole time, it seemed incredibly necessary.
I also had no intentions of telling Abby. Because even those she's seen just about every inch of my body while watching me give birth to Elly, and I've witnessed her changing her pants in the front seat of my car, there's still some things that should probably be left unsaid even amongst your very best friends.
Well.... until today. When she mentioned that Bif was on butt patrol as well as hair lookout. I couldn't help but fess up to her that if he's not around, the best tool to help with the pain was her spatula. To which she busted up laughing uncontrollably because honestly, how ridiculous is it that your roommate just fessed up to using the kitchen utensil you use to flip flapjacks on their ass to also reduce pain and pressure? It's pretty absurd.
But I felt a lot better after confession. And that's what's good about confessing things. It gets it off your chest and now she'll understand why she just got a brand new spatula without my having to lie. And I’ll know where it went to if I don’t see Bif around for a few days and there haven’t been any pancakes around.
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