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Hairier than a Hormonal Huntsman

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It is (finally) Spring, and thanks to a visit to my parents in Queensland with the kids, I have broken free of the skinny jeans and slipped squeezed into a pair of shorts! And short shorts at that! Eeek!

I may have been tempted to hide my milk-bottle-esque legs away for a few more months had it not been for the delivery of a little gift last week from Fitflops.

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They arrived on Monday, a few hours before I packed the kids into the car for a trip to the airport. Enough time to chuck out a pair of skinny jeans, and plastic thongs and throw my new footwear in.

“Ohhhh, they are the shoes that work your leg muscles when you walk,” my mother said, as I pulled them out of my case the next day.

“Do they?” I asked. “I just heard they are the most comfortable shoes you’ll ever wear, and they have a wobbleboard…or something. No one told me about muscle work outs!”

But there is one thing that short shorts means, (aside from small undies), is shaved legs.

“Can you just watch the kids while I have a quick shower?” I said sticking in the earplugs, and shutting the door before she had a chance to answer.

A quick soap-up and a shave and I was in my shorts, my new brown sling Fitflops, and ready to take on Seaworld with my parents and the kids. Bring it on.

Now, I don’t know about you, but whenever I visit my parents, it is like entering a time warp. My mum says things like “Are you going to be warm enough in that? Better take a cardi, just in case, I’d hate you to catch a chill.”

You know, that kind of thing.

This particular day, sandwiched between two other families, in a queue to ride something or other (my mortification makes the name of it escape me now!) she said to me, you’d better put some sunscreen on.  You are so fair skinned.  You know you will burn.”

My legs where still looking a whiter shade of pale, but rather than risk a 10 minute lecture on…well…anything…I slapped that thick white cream on every ounce of flesh on display.

I rubbed it into my arms, my shoulders, my face, and my legs….and that is when the horrible realization hit me…

In my haste to get ready and get out that morning, and to shave away the winter fur…I had done a terrible, terrible job.


Whoever designed unsightly body hair, has a lot to answer for!

Do you have any hairy-leg horror stories? Please tell me you do!



Jolene enjoys writing, sharing and connecting with other like-minded women online – it also gives her the perfect excuse to ignore Mount-Washmore until it threatens to bury her family in an avalanche of Skylander T-shirts and Frozen Pyjama pants. (No one ever knows where the matching top is!) Likes: Reading, cooking, sketching, dancing (preferably with a Sav Blanc in one hand), social media, and sitting down on a toilet seat that one of her children hasn’t dripped, splashed or sprayed on. Dislikes: Writing pretentious crap about herself in online bio’s and refereeing arguments amongst her offspring.

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