Full Body Massage - 100% Nekkid

That title should get me a few disappointed hits, HA! Serves you right.

SO.

Mrs. "I don't like to be touched by strangers" TOTALLY stripped down for a professional massage therapist.

I did it because her name was Brandi. It was purely psychological. I'd had a headache for days and the muscles in my neck and shoulders were so tight ... I needed my chiropractic adjustment and maybe a massage.

You know, it's funny ... before we got married, Greg was very eager to get his hands on me, calling it a massage. But now, when I ask him to rub my shoulders, he digs his stupid thumbs into the tender muscles until I want to cry. It's really not helpful.

So I can't really feel too bad about spending his hard earned money paying for something he could totally do for me (if he cared to).

I still have my headache, and feel pretty jerky. Sure, a good wife just wouldn't post the bad thoughts she has, but, 30 years from now, when Sagan is having a rough day, wondering what to do about her mean, neglectful husband, and I'm dead from a brain aneurysm, and Greg has remarried a 22 year old, hot, trophy bride, I'd like my daughter to know her thoughts are reasonable and normal. I don't know why husbands have to be big mean jerks, I just know they are and I hate the women who's husband seem not to be. I assume they are lying. Sure, your husband takes out the garbage and helps with dishes every night, cooks dinner most of the time, always gets up with the kids, mows the lawn weekly, works full time and brings you flowers. Liar. It's a nice lie, makes the guy seem great, makes life look like a unicorn rainbow picnic. Guys are jerks. Girls, too, but that's not what today's post is about.

Brandi told me to undress as much as I felt comfortable with. I asked Brandi what was best, what she preferred and she said completely naked is really the easiest and best. So I went for the full Monty. I've had three kids, it's no big deal (which is my mantra to get through a lot of impossible things).

So, there I was: dimly lit room, naked, between a couple sheets ... she comes in, warms up some oil in her hands, and the rest is a blur of bliss and pain and more bliss.

With all my heart, I admit I was wrong about being touched by strangers. If that stranger is a massage therapist and those hands are oiled up ... I'll be naked in a flash.

I can hardly wait to schedule my next massage.

And, best of all, because of my headaches, I imagine, I can use my magic Flex spending card to pay for it. To me, that's like free pretend money.

You were right, I was silly.

My conclusion: massage therapists, much like chiropractors, are magical!

Highly recommendable.

Do you concur?