I'm half tempted to order one of these rings from Proud "Cookie" just to hear my conservative relatives try to figure it out. "So pretty, like a flower dear".
And how much therapy will this little dude in the picture need?
All I know is that it took me 32 years to take a look at my lady bits again. After my little run-in with a rusty playground bolt I just didn't have the stomach to check it out. My OB kept urging me to, "look in the mirror, see the baby!" during birth. Um, pass. I gave husband permission to stay up near my head lest he be scared off from visiting the scene again. Amazingly, he was not in the least bit put off.
During the final moments of pushing I stopped, looked at the doctor and said, "I'm cool with you drying the baby off and stuff first. No need to put it on my chest right away or anything." And no, my children and I have awesome bonds despite my unwillingess to have my uterine goo smeared across my chest.
Don't misunderstand me, I'm all for enjoying your womanly bits. When a religious girlfriend of mine, who had somehow managed to save herself for marriage asked me for honeymoon advice I told her, "God wants you to have an orgasm." So viva la biscuit. I'm just not gonna create a plastic model of my bald man in a boat or flash my pocketbook pinkie ring.