Going to the Gynecologist

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A radio station routinely paid money for people to tell their
most embarrassing stories. Here was one of the winners.

I was due later that week for an appointment with the
gynecologist when early one morning I received a call from his
office: I had been rescheduled for early that morning at 9:30am.
I has just packed everyone off to work and school and it was
around 8:45 already. The trip usually took about 35 minutes so I
didn't have any time to spare. As most women do, I'm sure, I
like to take a little extra effort over hygiene when making such
visits, but this time I wasn't going to be able to make the full
effort. So I rushed upstairs, threw off my dressing gown, wet
the washcloth and gave myself a wash in "that area" in front of
the sink, taking extra care to make sure that I was presentable.

I threw the washcloth in the clothes basket, donned some
clothes, hopped in the car and raced to my appointment. I was in
the waiting room only a few minutes when he called me in.

Knowing the procedure, as I'm sure all women do, I hopped up on
the table, looked over at the other side of the room and
pretended I was in Hawaii or some other place a million miles
away from here. I was surprised when he said: "My...we have
taken a little extra effort this morning, haven't we?" but I
didn't respond. The appointment over, I heaved a sigh of relief
and went home. The rest of the day went as normal, some
shopping, cleaning and the evening meal, etc.

At 8:30 that evening my 14 year old daughter was getting ready
for a school dance, when she called down from the bathroom,
"Mom, where's my washcloth?"

I called back for her to get another from the cabinet. She
called back, "No, I need that one that was here by the sink. It
had all my glitter and sparkles in it."




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