The Upside of Humiliation

I confessed to my husband that I have a problem in my "nether regions."

I use that expression to reference a body part unmentionable. The good of the phrase is that it is vague and imprecise. It affords me the slight chance that the listener's mind might be diverted from the precise target of my humiliation.

Besides, I'm not willing to discuss precise nether regions in a forum where my co-workers, parents, siblings, friends, enemies and elementary school teachers can read it.

So I admitted to my husband that my non-specific nether regions might require medical attention.

He looked at me.

"You'll be fine," he said.

"But what if I need surgery?" I asked, leaping to the worst and most humiliating conclusion possible.

"You won't need surgery."

"Can you imagine?" I pantomimed spreading someone's cheeks apart. "Can you imagine laying face down on a table while a room full of medical professionals scrutinize that place?"

My husband paused and considered my dilemma.

"I'm going to say one thing," he said. "I'm going to say this one thing and it will make all of this better for you." He was certain. He was strong. He was full of conviction and handsomeness. Never in my life had I wanted him more.

"Yes? What is it?"

"Blog material," he said.

"What?" The wheels in my brain creaked to a halt.

"Blog material," he said, nodding his head. We stared at each other for a long time.

"You know me so well," I replied.

And that, my friends, is why I blog. Humiliation is nothing if it makes for a funny post. That is the universal law. Someone said the other day that if you're a writer, you must write as if no one will ever read it. It's the only way to be any good.

My nether regions be damned.