Back crack, sack – and feeling sick….

In an uncommonly brave bit of "childbirth can’t be that painful can it?" banter between me and Mrs A – I was sort of well and truly lead up the garden path and done up like a kipper (metaphorically speaking). Inevitably, being a mere man and not really understanding where the conversation was going, I failed to see the 'Testosterone Gambit' being engineered in front of my eyes. The discussion on pain ended with a very rash bet between myself and my better half, I somewhat foolishly committed myself to a bit of body waxing. Well, not really. It’s actually quite a lot of body waxing (I've got a really big arse) – in very sensitive and personal areas. To be precise, for some amazing and totally bizarre reason, I’ve decided to have what is commonly called a ‘back, crack and sack’…..

Well, it can’t be that painful, can it?

Can it?

I comforted myself by believing I would get it done in our local Waxing Emporium (wherever that is) – the delicate procedure being performed by a stunningly good looking young laydee….. Hmmmm, pleasure-painnnnnnnnnn.

Unfortunately, that bubble has been burst – my missus is going to do the backing, cracking and the sacking. She’s never done anything like this before – and has hardly ever done any waxing of her own legs. She’s always used ‘Desperate Dan’s patent Brillo Pads’ in the past.

She’s advised me to find a substantial piece of English Oak to bite on whilst she does the stuff.

I feel sick.

I’ll keep you posted. Hopefully, I will still be able to walk afterwards, even if it's only on all fours – and I’m going to hide the digital camera – to stop her taking compromising photos and posting them on www.fathubbylardyarses.com