I went somehow to wax hair removal of the bikini area to delight the newly made husband with something new (namely an intimate haircut under zero). It is painful, uncomfortable, but then beauty! All smooth, no scratch, irritation, charm and only! But the beauty did not last long. One morning I put on trousers and felt a slight discomfort in the perineal area, but did not attach much importance to this and went to work. By the evening, the situation worsened significantly. Somewhere near the entrance to the divine lotus cave it was relentlessly sick and I could not walk otherwise than in disgrace. She came home, her husband's good was not yet there, armed with a mirror, directed a lamp to the study object and began to look. And there is a huge breakdown - a hair has grown. What to do, you need to get (it is worth noting that neither the girlfriend nor her, at the time, the husband did not tolerate the type of blood and were extremely rude). And here, only I armed with a needle and pincet, disinfected the field of activity and tools with alcohol, my husband returned. Picture with oil: I, hollowing, with melted legs (one in the bath, the other resting in the wall) I sit on the washing machine, between my legs his desk lamp shines, in one hand a mirror, in the other a needle. The bonus is my pale, almost green face, distorted by the grimas of embarrassment, horror and embarrassment. Of course, there were explanations. Then the husband, wearing the sleeves of a snow-white shirt, comes up on his knees and begins to forge the unfortunate hair, permanently we both suppress attacks of nausea from the type of blood and pus and suffer from the inconvenience of the situation. The operation ended successfully and it quickly healed. But it was at that moment that I realized that family life and love include not only pleasant moments of joint romantic time, but also such cases when you want to fail through the earth from shame.