My scary hairy legs

Once upon a time I shaved my legs every week.

I loved for them to be so smooth they squeak.

Then the frequency changed to each fortnight as I got older,

And honestly less when the weather was colder.

When pregnancy started, I didn't want to let myself go.

Turns out it was much harder than I thought though.

Vomit and fatigue don't demand that legs be nice too,

So soon my leg hair was long, this is true.

As the sickness subsided, my will to have nice legs returned,

It was time to shave, this I feel I had earned.

On a Saturday morning, when there was plenty of time,

I wanted to to cut the forest before it was long enough to climb.

With no bathtub in our house, shaving means sitting on the shower floor,

It is far from comfortable but it is the best I have behind the shut door.

All lathered up, with a fresh new razor in hand, I got started.

But half way through, it hit me and I was suddenly disheartened.

You see, the shaving was the easy part, what came next was the test...

How do I do get off the shower floor? My new dilemma had me stressed.

For Chris I called out "Chrissy! Chrissy!" until he came to my rescue.

He giggled at my problem then realised the issue too.

My body is big and clunky and no longer bends the way the it used to

And a slipping over in the wet on my bottom is a real fear too.

Chrissy held out his big arms to lift me, but didn't want to get wet,

So when I standing I gave him a big slippery hug he wouldn't forget.

The moral of this story is that until Tiny Human is outside my body,

My leg hairs will be long and gaudy.

So if you see the forest down to my toes,

Try not to get scared, that is just how pregnancy goes.