Sticking it to the man…who happens to be my mom…who was actually totally right…damn it. This is less fun than I thought it would be.

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When I was little, I wanted NOTHING more that to take a bubble bath with Mr. Bubble.

According to the commercials, the bubbles Mr. Bubble produced?  Fucking bananas.

But, my mom was, like, Joan Crawford about the Mr. Bubble.

Nyet Mr. Bubble.

She was like, girls can’t use stuff like that, so, naturally, I was convinced it was made with pedophile sperm, and took her at her word.

I mean, the temptation was there, but I was a kid, and who the fuck wants to see an eight year old in maternity pants?

Actually…I do.  But only because I bet their little bellies are adorable.

Anyways, like it’s laced with fucking crack, my kids go nuts when they see Mr. Bubble.

And, because I am determined to be a waaaaay cooler mom than my mom, who did selfish things like not let me go to Color Me Badd concerts alone or have sex with hobos who lived in empty train boxcars, I bought them the Mr. Bubble.

Which I totally planned to try out first, because, while I may be old enough to realize it is not, in fact, made with the left over sperm from castrated pedophiles, there had to be some reason my mom was so insane about it.

So, I cleaned my tub, because it was totally nasty, full of hair and bath crayons, and I am convinced my husband pees and blows his nose in the shower, and I need to relax in a clean place.

As I am pouring the stuff in, it is bright pink, and smells like I emptied every bottle of perfume my grandmother ever owned into the tub.

And, while the bubbles are fucking glorious, I quickly realized why my mom would not let me buy this stuff.

It was not made for vaginas.

In fact, as I tried to step into it, my vagina was like, fuuuucccckkkkk no, we are not fucking going in there, just coat me in monostat now and call it a night.

But, I had to.

It was about the principal.

The bath was lovely.

I shaved my legs.

I read a few chapters of Twilight.

And, when I felt I had bathed long enough to make my point, I got out.

That was yesterday.

You know those dogs you see on America’s Funniest Home Videos?  The ones who scoot their butts around on the floor, which looks super hilarious, until you realize their are totally wiping their ass on your carpet?

It’s like that.

Only with my vagina.