Here, kitty, kitty

OK...I don't squirm away from the tender topics. So...prepare yourself.

I am going gray.....down there.

Yes. Down. There.

I was raised in a very strict Catholic family. We did not call it our vagina, our pussy, our muff or yes, our gadget.

This brings me to a funny Liv story that will go down in our family history. Once, when she was about 4 years old, we were taking one of those Mommy and Me swimming classes. She was already taking swimming classes but she thought it would be fun for us to share some water, so we did. One day, as she and I were changing into our suits in the locker room, another little girl brashly pointed to her vagina and said to Liv, "I call this my gadget." Liv didn't reply but came over to me to fix her strap and said quietly to me, "I call that ridiculous. It's called a nirvana."

How she knew the word nirvana beats me, but I had to bite my cheeks not to laugh. I gently corrected her and told her it was her vagina and she seems to have retained that knowledge....

So, yes...I did teach my daughter the proper words for her body parts. However, my own Mother did not see fit to do the same for me. She had all of her FOUR daughters call it down there.

I am not kidding when I tell you that as a grown woman in the medical profession, when I was in my late twenties I went to my gynecologist and confessed to him that I was having problems with an itching sensation...um....down there. Even as an adult, it was hard for me to say the word vagina.

So, yes. The teachings at one's Mother's knee go deep.

But, back to topic.

Last night, after some romp time with my partner, we had shut off the lights and were cuddling, falling off to sleep.

And then she told me something that bolted me into full awakening.

"You know what, babe? You're going gray and not just on your head....."

And then she sort of....chuckled.

I sat up bolt upright.

WHAT?

She immediately went into damage control.

"Honey, it's not a big deal. You're still so beautiful. It's like a soft little nest."

Well, that DID NOT help.

So, now...my um...(gulp) vagina looks like a little gray bird's nest?

I went to the bathroom and shut the door. Took a good hard look with a hand mirror.

Yup. Going gray.

Down there.

I sighed. Well, so the fuck what? My partner thinks it looks beautiful, what is the big deal?

I just.....DO NOT want to be gray.

Down there.

But, I don't want to start dyeing my hair there either.

So, nothing to do but accept this.

I am 55 years old. It's not like I'm 20 something.

But still.

So, I opened the door and came out. Bing had turned on the soft light on our bedside table.

I stopped when I saw that she was holding her camera.

"NO!" I said. One word.

She smiled sweetly.  "I think we should embrace this new beauty. Let me take a picture of you so that you can see what I see. How beautiful you are."

I flatly told her that I knew what a um....VAGINA looked like, I didn't need to see a photo.

"But, you've never seen yours. Not close up like this will be."

I informed her that there was this thing called a hand mirror.....

She pushed.

I gave in.

And you know what?

I'm smiling slyly here because you thought I was going to say it's beautiful, didn't you?

Well, it is. Of course it is. All of us are beautiful...um...DOWN THERE.

But, to me...I don't see a soft gray nest. I see a vagina with gray hair.

And I am feeling every bit of my 55 years.