My mother is a doctor. I know, last week I posted a photo of her dinner which consisted of arugula with a side of nicotine. She’s a "smokin' doctor," if you will, and she looks great for her age. . . but we don’t have time to go into that right now.
Growing up with a mother who is a doctor was great because she knew everything there was to know about the body. When I was twelve, I saw commercials on TV for Massengill douche. It was all so vague, talk of "freshness" and "vinegar." I had absolutely no idea what was going on . . .Were they making a salad? So I asked my mother what is douche and did I need it. I remember to this day how passionate she was when she screamed at me:
“Nooooo! You don’t need it!!!” She went on to explain further “Your vagina is like a self-cleaning oven. Don’t put anything in it. It’s supposed to be moist and drippy. If it weren’t moist and drippy you’d have big problems. Just leave it alone!”
Mom, you’ll be happy to know that three decades later, it’s still moist and drippy.