Friday, October 8, 2010

Please Don't Talk about My Vagina at the Dinner Table

We all know that having a child makes you far more open about feminine matters than you ever thought you'd be.  In fact, many women report a strange compulsion to tell and re-tell their labour and delivery stories in sickening detail, ad nauseum.  Well, the same can be said of me.  Over the past 15 months, I have embarassed many a dinner guest with tales of Lilah's entry into the world, whether they wanted to hear about it or not.

However, what I didn't foresee is the change that has taken place in the Hubs.  It used to be that even a passing mention of the word "cycle" or "tampon" would ellicit an annoyingly juvenile outburst of "ew," accompanied by much cringing and nose-wrinkling.  He was much happier remaining ignorant of any of the inner workings of my body.  But all that has changed. 

I have always teased the Hubs about his very large head, and in turn, he used to tease me about my freakishly small teeth and almost non-existent baby toe nails.  Now, even a passing mention of the size of his head somehow ends up leading back to a discussion of my lady bits.  (His thought process is this:  Lilah has inherited a large head from him, so my nether regions paid the price.  Follow?)  This very exchange happened just recently when we were over at our new friends' place for dinner, just as the main course was hitting the table and everyone was about to dig in.  Luckily, the Hubs had read the situation correctly, and these friends didn't seem the slightest bit embarassed or even surprised by the sudden turn the conversation had taken.  But, with different friends, this could have made dinner rather awkward.

I'm pretty sure it's karmic justice that, after years of teasing the Hubs about his giant head, I had to birth a baby carrying half his genetic code (and apparently dominant large head gene).  But don't you think I've paid my dues?  Don't I deserve a few free head shots without my vagina becoming dinner table discussion fodder?

What do you think?  Does it serve me right? Do I need to find something new to tease the Hubs about?  Any suggestions?

Okay, just in case you're thinking about never visiting my blog again, here's something pretty to erase the disturbing image that has most likely been invading your brain since paragraph one of this post:

Just don't think about the size of her head.

Oh, and for the record, the Hubs thought this post should be entitled: "Vagina Monologues?  Vagina YOURalogues!"


  1. I think that tone is critical here. A husband must never, ever criticize his wife's vagina. Joking about the price you paid in birth is probably OK. Implying you could drive a truck up your va-jay-jay? Not so cool.

    But maybe I'm overly sensitive, myself. ;)

  2. a c-section cuts out all that kind of "throwing a sausage up the tunnel" talk, at the dinner table or otherwise

    should i be sad about this? or that my husband won't discuss my vagina at the dinner table?

  3. Amber: LOL, no, I don't think the tone is at all critical, just as mine isn't when I tease the Hubs about his head. His sense of humour has always been about flirting with that line you're not supposed to cross. He goes for shock value. He usually gets it right and manages not to offend anyone. But I still think we could maybe tone it down on the vagina talk while dining with friends.

    ebbandflo: I suppose C-sections come with some perks, then! I'd only be sad if he doesn't discuss your vagina EVER, even when totally appropriate.

    And for the record, I Kegel, so it's all good. :)


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