Nothing But Love :: golf blogger

Here's the story I get. And it makes sense when you think about it. The antibiotics not only kill off the bad germs, but also decimate the normal flora that camps out in and around the female reproductive system; so that if this existing flora is killed off by the antibiotics, the other stuff, unaffected by antibiotics, but controlled by the normal flora, begins to proliferate.

So, the husband (see, non-discriminating), that's me, gets complaints about certain symptoms, as if he really wants to hear about this kind of stuff. But for reasons that will remain unexplained here, the husband, that's me, listens patiently, or at least looks in the general direction of the wife and appears to be listening patiently, but is really listening to the baseball game being played out on ESPN.

Let's clear up a few things here. The Internet is, taking into account all of the competing considerations, a bad thing. It causes or compounds problems. And if you argue with this suggestion, you will have missed the whole point of this little story.

My wife checked out on the Internet the particulars of the certain symptoms, and confirmed that what she had originally opined was true, which is, I suppose, an isolated "good thing" that arose from Internet contact.

I decided to allow her conclusions to allay my greatest fear, which was created by an apparently unhealthy number of visits to certain Internet sites, also looking up the possible reasons for the "certain symptoms, " that is, that she had been abducted by aliens and that something was implanted in her uterus, which would eventually turn into an Outer Limits episode.

So, I get my instructions, vague, I think, in retrospect, because of the low-grade fever she is running (or because of the mental telepathy of beings in the mother ship hovering somewhere in the Atlantic camouflaged by what most people call a hurricane -- you see, the government knows this stuff or why else would planes, "converted" bombers, no less, be flying into the hurricane to see what is happening), instructions with which I am only too happy to comply. For the sake of harmony and good health.

Now, I've been blogging for over a year now, and I have recounted in the various incarnations of my personal weblog my experiences without much fear. This boy has had no trouble with shopping for tampons, although walking down the aisle is somewhat disconcerting, given the massive amount of choices that one has in that world of feminine protective devices and a paucity of relevant information on the exact volumetric needs and aromatic preferences in that area of feminine protection one is given.

But I have now crossed into a new and different dimension of husbandry being a husband.

"The article says I need to get some douche and an anti-fungal cream."

The question is implied in that declarative statement. Do you see it? Do you know where I'm going? And I will tell you this to save you some time and effort, boys. There is no douche at Costco. So, you don't have to go there, at her urging, just to save a few bucks (And I suspect she already knew Costco didn't have it.) and ask one of the "partners" there if Costco has any ... douche. Is every "partner" at Costco a woman, who is either 19 years old or hard of hearing or both? That girl looked at me like I was crazy.

CVS Pharmacy has douche, though, and lots of it -- aisle 11A in the store I visited. So many choices, but my eye was caught by the little yellow placard stuck to the shelf with the word "SALE" printed in red. Aaaaah, the power of advertising and marketing. Sorry, Massengill.

My douche of choice? CVS. Ready-To-Use. Disposable. Extra Cleansing Vinegar & Water. Tamper Evident. Easy To Use Anywhere. Convenient. Sanitary. Alcohol Free (Italics in original). Economy 4 Pack.

That last thing was the real selling point. I will not have to go back to see the check-out clerk, who looked at me with conspiratorial glee in her eyes.