No, my daughter is six now. And I’ve helped her shave her legs for years and years… it had nothing to do with pregnancy in the first place, she just has short arms and has a hard time reaching the back of her legs. One day I came upon her trying to contort herself and said, “You want me to get that for you?” Now I do the whole job while she relaxes and listens to music.
In retrospect, I would have saved myself a lot of work over the years if I’d led with my other suggestion, which was to tape the razor to a chopstick with duct tape. Sigh.
My wife looks forward to when I get zits, pimples, etc. (Not that I often do; I have an extensive skin-care regimen.)
She LUURVES popping them. No, I don’t get it.
And no, she doesn’t get credit for doing something she enjoys; she still owes me for the daily post-surgical care I gave her following the removal of her pilonoidal cyst. I had to pack gauze into an open wound and replace the bandage at the base of her spine.
I’ve checked my wife’s head for lice (that was a real primate moment.) I’ve also showered with her while she’s vomiting red wine all over me, ah good times.
I love popping them too. I check my husband for zits, ingrown hairs, and hairs in inappropriate places. He thinks that he can get away with just shaving his ears now and then. I want to pluck those hairs, it lasts so much longer.
I had to deal with his pilonidal cyst, too. I cleaned and packed it two or three times a day. Usually, I don’t have a weak stomach, but I did feel distinctly woozy the first few times I saw his wound.
On the lighter side–and not speaking for myself–playing the Disney Princess Game on the Wii.
Both my mother and my sister-in-law did so at the behest of my nieces, despite not being especially fond of computer games, or skilled at using the Wii-mote.
I think having to drown pigeons in the toilet would definitely count as unexpected, especially as the request came from my current partner who is quite an animal kingdom lover.
My boyfriend loves popping zits too. I’ll let him do it in private, but I once had to stop him from popping one that he noticed while we were on public transit…
I had to round up a small posse of strong men in the waiting room to hold down my gay lover’s arm each and every time he needed an injection or needed to have blood drawn (which was often). He wouldn’t permit it unless at least three men held his arm down very tightly. You see, as a child, a syringe needle broke off under the skin in his arm when he blanched at the puncture, and the event so traumatized him that he simply couldn’t bear it otherwise.
Never saw a stronger man so anxious and frightened by such a little prick (well, you said you wanted it more light-hearted…)
If a posse could not be found, we’d have to make another appointment!
My husband, who has 2 sisters, a Mother and a father that is an OB/GYN would much rather die that buy any sort of feminine hygiene sort of thing. After my daughter was born, my milk came in at like 3am. I made him go buy me ANYTHING that would help get it out. Yes, I sent out my husband for a breast pump. To his credit, he bought one instead of buying a sump pump, which I’m sure he would have preferred. I also had to send him out for super-huge, ultra-absorbant, maxi-pads.
Somehow, when I protested against having to buy him dip, his argument was “it isn’t like anyone is going to think you use it.” Which I used against him mercilessly post-natal.
