Se que algunas cosas de las mujeres estpan cesuradas para ls hombres. Pero en ésta era de la comunicación total y abierta entre sexos, el intento incontrolable de llamada igualdad de género y otras sustancias antres prohibidas y ahora permitas aunque con regulación, creo que esa censura existente por parte del séxo “debil” para que conozcámos las aventuras que viven al visitar a su doctor ya son pasadas de moda.
Surfeando en WordPress.com me tope con este post el cual, despues de soltar una carcajada en público, no pude contenerme en republicar la parte de la historia de interés:
I was due for an appointment with the gynaecologist later in the week.
Early one morning, I received a call from the doctor’s office to tell me that I had been re-scheduled for that morning at 9.30am.
I had only just packed everyone off to work/school and was running close.
As most women do, I like to take a little extra effort over hygiene when making such visits, but this time I didn’t have time to make the full effort.
So, I rushed upstairs, threw off my pyjamas, wet the washcloth next to the sink, and washed the area in question. I threw the washcloth in the laundry basket, dressed, hopped in the car and raced off.
Once in the examination room, knowing the procedure, I hopped on the table, looked over at the other side of the room and pretended that I was in Paris. I was a little surprised when the doctor said, “My, we have made an extra effort this morning. haven’t we? I didn’t respond.
After the appointment, I heaved a sigh of relief and went home.
After school when my 6 year old daughter was playing, she called out from the bathroom, “Mommy, where’s my washcloth?”
I told her to get another one from the cupboard.
She replied, “No, I need that one that was by the sink, it had all my glitter and sparkles saved in it.”
Never going to that doctor again. EVER !
Si alguien le ha pasado, por favor absténgase de sonrojarse…