My husband and I have been together for almost twelve years. We’ve lived in three different houses. We’ve made a little dude together. We’ve gone through illness and recovery, changes of employment, emotional ups and downs, and many a sextastic day.

So how do we keep it hot?

Just kidding. This isn’t one of those blog posts about how to keep the spunk in your funk. But it IS about how your man maintains his junk.

Manscaping. Let’s talk about it.

I’m pretty sure that 99.9% of you know what manscaping is, but for those who don’t, allow me to offer a brief description: it’s when a man shaves or trims back his underwear ‘fro and lets the sun shine in. There. Now you’re educated.

I personally don’t have an opinion on manscaping either way – at least not with regards to the look of it.  As long as things don’t smell like pee down there, I’m fine with whatever a man’s got going on, be he bushy or be he bald. So when my husband asks me if it’s time for a trim, whether he’s asking in the interest of simple hygiene or for the more scandalous purpose of “keeping it hot,” I just shrug. Sure. Go for it. Or not.

It ain’t no never mind to me.

However. What I do mind is the fallout of manscaping. I mind that very much. Because whatever the reason behind my husband’s desire to “take a little off the top,” that motivation never seems to extends to wanting to clean up the forty thousand pube corpses he leaves behind. Those become my problem and mine alone.

(Oh, but don’t be too quick to judge my husband as lazy or inconsiderate– in his defence, he claims he “doesn’t see them.” Any of them.)

Not to put too fine a point on it, but this chaps my ass. You see, I’m already the one who cleans the bathrooms. And in a house dominated by dudes, the bathrooms are fairly disgusting to begin with. There is always toothpaste in the sinks. And beard stubble in the showers. And pee on the floor around the toilet bowls, which over time seems to take on the color and consistency of teriyaki sauce. That stuff takes time and effort to clean up. I don’t need a weekly visit from the Pube Fairy to make my job even harder.

Not to mention extra grody.

Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the fact that my husband likes to keep himself neat and tidy down below, even though it doesn’t really matter to me if he does. I’m sure it equates in principle to any or all of my own beauty routines: manicures, pedicures, scraping the dead skin off my feet, spending $65 on haircuts that no one even notices. My own hair removal regimen, for that matter. The hours I spend caking my face in seventy layers of makeup. Whether any of these things are strictly “necessary” or not, they make me feel pretty and sexy. And I’m sure my husband’s manscaping does the same for him.

The difference is that I don’t expect HIM to clean up MY shit when I’m done.

Can you imagine?

“Hey, baby. Welcome home after twelve hours of work. Oh, you want to go wash your face and lay down? You’ll have to move the ten pounds of makeup I left scattered all over the bed and bathroom.”

“Hey, baby. Thanks for shoveling a foot of snow out of the driveway. I clipped my toenails in the middle of the kitchen floor, don’t step in those. Even better, here’s a broom and dustpan. Have at it.”

“Hey, baby. You are so super hot and gorgeous. I’ll show you my appreciation, if you know what I mean… right after you empty out my Pedi-Egg.”

I guess the point I’m making is that the special things you do to rev up your partner or spouse don’t actually rev them up if they end up having to do A CHORE as a result, and manscaping is no exception. Sure, it keeps things clean and it has a slightly metrosexual appeal. But if I’m on my hands and knees the next day wiping up a mess of damp, crunchy pubes? Please. That ain’t hot. That’s just…not.

So honey? Husband? I love you dearly. And you rock my world, in each and every possible way. But trust me when I say that we could take sex to a whole new level if I knew that I wasn’t going to have to sweep up a metric ton of your crotch spiders each and every time you shear yourself.

Just clean it up, husband.


Sarah (est. 1975)


Sarah del Rio is a comedy writer whose award-winning humor blog est.1975 brings snark, levity, and perspective to the ladies of Generation X. Despite being a corporate refugee with absolutely no formal training in English, journalism, or writing of any kind, Sarah earns her daily bread as a freelance writer and editor. She has also contributed to several anthologies, including I STILL Just Want to Pee Alone, the latest installment in the national-bestselling I Just Want to Pee Alone series. Sarah contributes regularly to BLUNTMoms and has made frequent appearances on The Huffington Post Best Parenting Tweets of the Week List. She has also been featured on Scary Mommy, In the Powder Room, and the Erma Bombeck Writer's Workshop. You can also follow Sarah on her blog est.1975 and on Facebook and Twitter.


  1. “Hey, baby. You are so super hot and gorgeous. I’ll show you my appreciation, if you know what I mean… right after you empty out my Pedi-Egg.” STOP. IT. Again! Except this shit’s funnier than anything in my head at the moment.

    Bravo, sister. You had me at “crotch spiders.” xxx+o

    • HEY GIRL! No, it’s not warm where we are. It is frigid-tastic.

      I have to keep myself warm by farting a toasty cloud around myself at all times.

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  3. HA HA HA! I am guessing this is also the same eagle eye vision style they employ for empty drinking glasses on the coffee table and socks by the bed, right?! ;)-Ashley

    • Does your husband do this?

      Him: “Where is my sweatshirt?”
      Me: “What sweatshirt?”
      Him: “The sweatshirt I wore yesterday. It was still clean.”
      Me: “I don’t know, I didn’t…”
      Him: “It was right on the floor.”
      Me: “Then I put it in the dirty laundry. Floor laundry is dirty laundry.”
      Him: “But it was CLEARLY not dirty.”
      Me: “I can not even look at you right now.”

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