And so, saturday, and the most important question of all. What to call it: my bits; my new lady part?
The debate kicked off fairly prematurely on Facebook amongst various female friends. In the blue corner the reactionary, the boisterous and the latest wave of feminists leapt in with the c-word. Which seems like as good a place as any to retell a slightly less than respectful religious joke:
His Holiness the Pope – for it is He! – is sat frowning one saturday afternoon over the weekend crossword. “Cardinale!”, he calls out. “Four letters. Female part. Ending in U-N-T”.
“Easy, your Holiness. That would be ‘aunt'”.
“Ah”. The Pope leans forward and carefully erases the first letter of his answer…
Well: I liked it.
More clinically, another friend volunteers “vagina” – only to be pedantically put right by someone who knows the anatomical difference between vagina and vulva.
“Fanny” has legs – though loses some points by the fact that my predictive texting rewrites it as “danny”. (Though for some odd reason, my phone also transliterates “cunt” to “fibre”. Huh?
Grasping at straws now, Andrea and Eleanor slip in with a flurry of ever more obscure terms. Poonanny, coochie, hoohaa and bearded oyster are followed shortly after by lady garden, foofoo and kebab.
I think i am even more confused than when we started, and therefore, a propos of nothing – and certainly lacking all sense of decorum – i volunteer the following scurrilous song, and await suggestions.
P.S., i wonder, in the end, if its not simply a matter of generation and place. I don’t mind the c-word, but dislike the shock it tends to bring along with it. Perhaps i will soon be learning a range of terms.