Do YOU Enjoy Being A Woman?

Each time I step into my shower, I'm told to enjoy being a woman. No, it's not some odd well-wish by my husband. And, no, I don't own a parrot. Nor do I self-administer a pep-talk before taking up my body puff. What does come into play here is my habit of reading labels. Specifically, the back of the 'SUMMER'S EVE Feminine Wash' bottle. Right there, printed in navy blue letters against a strip of pale green are the very words 'Enjoy Being A Woman' accompanied by the website address for the product. Invariably, I ponder this directive, unsure as to how the use of this hypoallergenic gelatinous goo can induce me to celebrate my femininity.

Well, today I finally surrendered to my curiosity. I visited www.summerseve.com in the hopes of illumination on the subject. I might as well have clicked on ESQUIRE magazine dot com for all I got out of it; at least at ESQUIRE, the glossy photo-spreads are pretty clear on certain well-recognized womanly attributes which are happily delivering joy to inboxes and P.O. boxes all around the world! Still, here's what the C.B. Fleet company has to say at their URL about the enjoyment of womanhood. Point by point.

First, their mission is to help me enjoy being a woman. That's a bold mission statement so rife with expectation that they are sure to disappoint right out of the gate. I don't recall filling out a questionnaire or answering a series of queries by phone solicitation. There was no representative at Wal-Mart in the personal hygiene aisle to chat me up as to my likes and dislikes, wants and hopes, problems and issues. Already, I sense false advertising.

Second, to accomplish this goal, they provide solutions which will keep me free from worry. They even offer multiple options so I can pick what's best for me. As I have yet to emerge from the shower worry-free during my long-standing acquaintance with SUMMER'S EVE, I thought perhaps the Internet site harbored the stress-reducing options not found in the bottle. I searched and searched for 'how-to-dumb-proof-my-kids' or 'healthy-dinner-menus-for-a-year-so-your-husband-won't-ask-WFD-by-text-every-cotton-pickin'-day' or 'take-care-of-my-mother-and-mother-in-law-for-the-rest-of-their-lives' or even a 'world-peace/secret-to-looking-like-Linda-Hamilton-in-TERMINATOR 2' combo. Nowhere. What DO they offer, you might wonder? The assertion that feeling fresh and clean in either sensitive skin formula, Berry Bliss or Morning Paradise will do the trick. Balance the PH levels in your nether regions and life will roll along in a most relaxed and joyous state.

Third, they know that men and women have different standards of freshness. Therefore, it is to my exacting and specific requirements that their line-up has been created. What is it, do you suppose, that I desire in personal cleanliness which differs so dramatically from the wants of a man? (Other than I have no special wish to be told that I smell like an 'Irish Spring' or exude eau d' 'Red Zone.') Odor-free and squeaky clean, jelly bean, will do just fine by me. Is THIS how I enjoy being a woman? If so, then do guys strut around not caring whether they stink and grow layers of grime in their special places and in this reciprocal way enjoy being men?

Finally, harsh ingredients are avoided in their formulations to ensure safety and avoid irritating reactions. Hmmph. Safety they say? In my entire bathing career, aligned with SUMMER'S EVE as I have asserted all along, I managed to get pregnant THREE TIMES. Maybe I didn't rinse thoroughly enough? Oh, and I've slipped on the floor more than once or twice. As for irritating reactions, my husband would vouch for a myriad moments of perplexed snarlings and baffling attitudes emanating from my person, both before and after showers. Perhaps I used more than the recommended 'small amount poured onto hand or washcloth?'

I notice now, examining more closely the fine print on my gynecologist-tested intimate cleanser, that it specifies FOR EXTERNAL USE ONLY. Well, smack my forehead and pass me a V-8! My visual acuity must be dimming with age or perhaps my memory slipped on the wet floor, too. The answer WAS on the bottle. That's the reason I'm yet overwhelmed with worries, feeling unsafe and irritated, and unable to be the ultimate girly-girl. I've been slamming shooters of feminine wash! Heck, I'll shove those shot glasses to the back of the cabinet, immediately. There's still hope for me to enjoy being a woman after every thorough cleansing.

I'm off . . . to shower the right way. Thanks, SUMMER'S EVE, for the encouragement. Feel free to use my testimonial on your website if you want.