You should use a battle axe.

One very unfortunate side effect of working full time, feeding your family regularly, keeping the kitchen somewhat clean, and parenting a small baby is that my hygiene routinely suffers. I manage to brush my teeth and hair every day, but showers just don't always make it into my schedule. Sure, I know, there are at least hundreds of women who are able to do all this - and more(!), but I am not one of them.

Another, albeit marginally, unfortunate side effect of my sad bathing status is that the hair on my legs gets shaved maybe once or twice a month. So sad and gross. Why am I even telling you this? Because you're my friend, that's why. (Aren't you just so glad we're friends?) This is only embarrassing when my pant leg rides up when I'm crossing my legs. Lucky for me, I cross them all the time! I'm surprised no one has called the Sasquatch Gang, because BIG FOOT LIVES IN IDAHO AND SHE WILL EAT YOUR FAMILY! Also lucky for me, my secret is safe because no one has reported me- yet. I should also add that the last time I shaved my legs, I broke my last Intuition razor cartridge. You know that nice lotiony moisturizing bar that surrounds the razor? Gone. Broken by my porcupine leg hairs after its second use. I've still been using it to shave my armpits with copious amounts of Dove. What? Those cartridges are expensive. I've got to get my money's worth.

Anyway, I managed to get a shower today because my husband reminded me that I had planned on taking one (hint, HINT, stinky!). And I tackled the beast what lives on my lower extremities. With copious amounts of Dove because I forgot to buy more razor cartridges. I didn't even make it up to my knee caps because the hair was so long. I'm talking like a third of an inch or so. Again, sad and gross. You might ask me why I am telling you this. Well, I heard you needed to feel better about yourself, and since we're friends, I thought I'd oblige.

My last day at work is Friday, and I am so ready. I am tired of pumping my breasts four times a day like a dairy cow. I am tired of my sitter over-estimating how much Ben will eat and wasting my hard earned milk at the end of the day. I'm tired of sitting around at work with nothing to do. It's so boring, and I still have to act like I'm doing something, right? Most of all, I'm so tired of being away from my kid. I'm so glad it's almost Friday.