Whoever decided that women should shave their legs is the legitimate worst.
I mean, seriously. God gave us leg hair, why can’t we keep it? It takes a solid extra five minutes in the shower to deal with that crap. That’s five minutes I could be sleeping or eating or something way better. And if you’re me (translation: clumsy), every time you touch a razor you risk absentmindedly gashing yourself.
Which is why my legs generally have about three days of stubble on them at any given time. And let’s be honest, three days is actually not that bad. Like, I know plenty of people that go weeks, okay?
But you know who doesn’t appreciate my dedication to sort of keeping my leg hair under control?
CHILDREN. Kids give zero craps about the hell that is shaving. If your legs are prickly, they will for darn sure tell everyone within a ten mile radius.
I know this because I worked at a daycare for kids 0-5 years old and made the mistake of wearing shorts to work and letting kids sit in my lap. “Hey, why are your legs so scratchy?” is a really fun question to answer during storytime in front of all your coworkers.
I once was monitoring kids at recess and looked down to find one of my pre-K kids absentmindedly petting my legs. “What? It’s pokey!”
Even the littlest kids, the ones that can’t say actual words didn’t give me a break. I was holding one of my littles on my lap, he legit knew like three words at the time so I thought I’d be safe, BUT NO.
I kid you not, he touched my leg, frowned, touched it again and said “uh oh”. He then continued to rub my stubble and loudly proclaim “UH OH” to everyone else in the classroom.
My coworkers died laughing, and thus it was proven that children of any age can and will mercilessly attack when you’re at your most vulnerable.
I shaved much more frequently after that. Which, I’m happy to say, had the desired effect. It has now been some time since my legs have been unceremoniously thrust into the spotlight.
And luckily, winter is coming. Which will release all of female-dom from the chains of shaving for a few short, frigid months.
Or maybe we’ll just embrace our stubble. You can yell about it all you want, kids.