by Mimi Williams
All About Mimi
Many relationship experts will tell you, leave something to the imagination. Some things aren’t meant to be shared. It’s good for couples to retain a bit of mystery. I used to buy into this as well. I remember when I used to sleep in my makeup so my then boyfriend (now husband) would think I just naturally woke up with flawless skin, eyeshadow, mascara and lipstick. I never belched or vomited, and I sure as hell never farted. I was a walking miracle of modern science!
Then we had a baby together. And let me tell you, if anything is going to rip the veil off that relationship and put it all out there it’s being in the delivery room with your one true love when her abdomen is a gaping wound, her uterus is on display, there’s blood everywhere and she’s crying because she’s scared and uncomfortable. I was more interested in surviving the ordeal, while my fiancé was more interested in doing his own Lamaze breathing techniques and avoiding any glances at the gore that might result in him fainting, to even think of hearts and flowers. There isn’t much mystery, romance or flirtation involved in an operating room during a cesarean section, or for the 9 months leading up to it, for that matter. Swollen ankles, back pain, nausea and indigestion aren’t really the most attractive attributes a women can possess. And being scared shitless isn’t really what turns a woman on.
I went from never farting in front of my man, to whipping a boob out in a shopping mall and feeding my shrieking newborn while I shopped for a wedding dress. (An experience that my husband has still not recovered from to this day.) Why he should have been surprised at this development, as in the previous few weeks my favorite cure for boredom, and new way of letting off steam as I sat in my basement apartment without a car, unfamiliar with the city, broke and pregnant, was ambushing him by the front door when he got home from work each night, and greeting him by squirting him with breastmilk from my suddenly overflowing and abundant breasts. What can I say…I had read all my books, we couldn’t afford cable, I didn’t have any friends in my new town yet, and I needed a hobby. And I was suddenly in possession of two built in squirt guns. Oddly enough, as he ran screaming through our one bedroom apartment, with me waddling behind him, giggling in hot pursuit, we were having fun. We were in love! As they say, thanks for the mammaries… (Ok, so no one says that. )
Over the years we have changed smelly diapers, cleaned up vomit and dog poop, cared for sick kids, cared for each other while we were sick, and grumpy and gross, and survived teenagers. A lot of marriage and true love is taking care of each other and about the day to day grind. Popping the zits, looking at that rash on your partner’s back, inventorying each other’s moles. It’s slogging through the bills and the boredom and the moods and the different phases of your lives. It’s getting older with someone, both of you physically falling apart and laughing about it together and helping each other out. Because sometimes you can either laugh or cry, and we usually choose to laugh, though we’ve shed our share of tears together too. Sure, there are many great times, fun, romantic dinners out, and plenty of sexy moments in between all the hard stuff. But it’s being able to ask your partner to pluck your chin whisker that really encapsulates the trust, security, companionship and unconditional love of a good marriage. Nothing says true love, like a chin whisker! I can prove it…
If you’re single, and looking for that perfect someone, just lean across the candlelit table on your first date in a fancy restaurant, look your new companion in the eye, and ask them to pluck your chin whisker. Chances are, they will knock over their chair, and a waiter or two, trying to beat a hasty retreat. But if he says, “Sure, baby! Hand me the tweezers!” let me tell you this…he’s a keeper!
