*Foot powder for my stanky feet
*Lotion for my chafed legs
So, we came across the aisle labeled "Feminine Hygiene**" which is code for "All that Shit You Need for Your Genitalia". And Michael stops.
"Look, honey! Magnum condoms! I'm gonna get some!" (He's yelling this, of course.)
"Shhh," I say as I blush fushia.
"Oooooo," Michael says, "Look at this whole line of KY stuff! Warming...sensitive...massage oils...different flavors...hey, I bet that's edible!"
A woman who looked like she was suffering from a yeast infection veered away from us in a huff.
And then, he practically screams, "HOLY SHIT, WE GOTTA GET SOME OF THAT!"
As if I didn't have enough of a complex.
**Why's it gotta be called feminine hygiene? Like having a period makes me dirty?
Labels: Embarrassment, Genitalia, Michael
