I don’t like to talk about nether regions. To be honest, I still haven’t totally come to grips with the fact I have any, but this might help someone and it was pretty funny.
The other day I was standing at the door waiting for the dog, when I felt a vibrating feeling in my groin. A buzzing against my pubic bone. It was like I had put my phone on vibrate and then, realizing I had no pockets, stuffed it down the front of my underpants like any other normal human being. Except I didn’t have my phone.
The feeling was intermittent, almost like a frayed wire that kept trying to make a connection. It didn’t hurt. It didn’t feel, uh, sexy. It was just annoying.
I mentioned it to Mike when we went to walk the dog.
“You have a buzzing coochie?” he asked.
I realized I had made a huge mistake sharing with Mike. I know better. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking.
“Not my coochie,” I said, trying to nip that whole line of mirth in the bud. “It’s on my pubic bone. It’s a vibrating feeling in my groin.”
“You’re a girl. You don’t have a groin.”
“Yes I do.”
He groaned. “Does this mean I’m gay?”
“EVERYONE HAS A GROIN!”
“Should I take you to the ER? It could be an aneurysm in your ventricle.”
“It isn’t an aneurysm in my ventricle. Ventricles are in the heart.”
“Then it could be a clot in your aorta…”
“Again, heart. I’m fine!” It doesn’t hurt! I just… have a bumblebee in my pants.”
And then I snorted like a 5 year-old and we both cackled. If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em.
Mike has a song from his childhood, sung to the tune of “If You’re Happy and You Know It” that goes:
There’s a skeeter on my peter, get it off!
There’s a skeeter on my peter, get it off!
There’s a skeeter on my peter, there’s a skeeter on my peter, there’s a skeeter on my peter… Get it off!
So after I yelled at him for five straight minutes to shut up about my buzzing coochie, he began quietly singing.
There’s a bumblebee on my coochie, get it off…
Which I suppose I deserved.
Mike is an equal opportunity hypochondriac, so he started pushing me to call every woman I know and find out if they had ever had a buzzing coochie. Like there was a secret buzzing coochie society to which I could now join. When he threatened to discuss it with his mother and aunt, I broke down and called my mother, who also laughed at me.
“I’m jealous!” she said, giggling her ass off.
“Ok. Now have to spend the rest of the day pretending I didn’t hear that.”
Googling “vibrating feeling in my groin” isn’t usually the best idea.
But it turns out I did not get bombarded with porn. Google’s gotten pretty good at that lately (though I still chose not to call this post “there’s a bumble bee on my coochie” just to be safe.) I did find out there were a LOT of message boards out there with women and men complaining of a vibrating feeling in their groin. The answers ranged wildly, from diabetes to pinched nerves to yeast infections. Blech.
The Solution: There’s a vibrating feeling in my groin… no more!
I found my cure, accidentally.
I was sitting on the sofa and the buzzing started up again. I tilted my head back in exasperation… and it stopped.
I brought my head back up, buzzing. Tilted back, stopped. As predictable as a light switch.
If moving my spine could start and stop it, it had to be a pinched nerve.
So, I lie face down on the ground and suffered through a few minutes of Mike doing everything he could think of to be annoying — playing patty-cake on my back, pretending to hump me, trying to grope side boob — before he finally cracked my back for me. Just pushed on either side of my spine. *crack!*
After that it still buzzed for a minute, but then stopped for good.
So, I’m not a doctor, but for what it is worth, I hope this helps someone with a bumble bee on their crotch. There’s a good chance you have a pinched nerve. Hopefully, you have an incredibly immature mate to crack you. Protect your side boob.
And remember kids: Never tell your goofy ass husband you have a buzzing coochie.
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