With everything us females do for beautification, something is bound to go wrong. The inevitable must be discussed, and of course, I have no fear sharing the ridiculous antics of my gender. I'll save the bad hair cuts, perms gone wrong, bleach in a bottle, and hives outbreaks for another day. For today, ladies, I feel the need to write about hair removal and what we won't do for soft, smooth skin. I hear you all snickering.

We've all been there. Most know about and have experienced Nair incidents. Then there's the dreaded wax (both home remedies and removal by sadistic salon technicians), those stones that claim to remove hair by simply rubbing the skin and watching hair magically disappear, and a plethora of other hair removal products that are just plain wacky. But, we try them nonetheless.

Not only have I been there, done that, but you'll be happy to know that Poison Control now has a solution for removing wax from skin thanks to my brilliant behavior. One fine morning, my friend and I decided we were going to try that new fangled orange wax hair removal. Yes, the advertisement boasted an easy and pain free hair removal method, and we fell for it hook, line and sinker. Here's how it went:

Instructions? We don't need no stinking instructions! Doing a test patch and waiting 24-hours to see if we have a skin reaction? Who has that kind of time? (Women and following beauty product labels to a tee are like men stopping to ask for directions.) Are you seeing the writing on the wall? Yeah, that's what I thought.

I went first (brilliant, uh?). We slathered the wax on my thigh and firmly pressed on the cloth strips. I braced myself in anticipation, and my friend ripped as fast as she could.

I saw the light!

When I came back to the earthly world and realized the manufacturers of the wax were full of hogwash (pain free me a**), we looked at my thigh expecting to see a smooth, clean spot. They're liars ... liars, I say! Not only was the hair still there, but so was the wax. That was enough for me; I gave up and started to wash it all off.

Here's where Poison Control enters the picture: the wax wouldn't come off. Wax, I might add, that has the consistency of hair gel and spreads to crevices I didn't want to think of. We tried everything ... I mean everything - bar soap, dish liquid, laundry soap, fingernail polish, gasoline, paint thinner ... everything. We called the manufacturer on the bottle and Poison Control. No luck, so we gave up and headed to the Emergency Room. And, yes, insurance does cover stupidity.

After everyone in the ER stopped laughing, they went to work figuring out what would remove the wax. Even the janitor got in on it, and I thank the Heaven's above because he's the one who discovered that GoJo (the soap that removes oil from a mechanic's hands) did the trick. The doctor came in and said, "Well, thanks to you, Poison Control now has a solution on file." I was so happy to be of assistance.

After that episode, you think I would have learned, but no. I have to be stubborn and do things the hard way. As such, ladies, in the interest of the education, I feel compelled to issue this warning: Never mix Nair and Coochie Cream.

You read the correctly. Nair and Coochie Cream. Just exactly what is Coochie Cream? Allow me to fill you in on yet another idiotic hair removal event.

After the wax episode above, my daughter felt compelled to give me Coochie Cream. She explained that Coochie Cream was the product strippers used so they wouldn't get unsightly shaving burn and bumps. I didn't want to know how she knew this, but I was willing to give it a go. I diligently read the label this time: Coochie Cream is both a lotion and hair conditioner. Umm...interesting, I suppose you can rub the lotion on after shaving as a moisturizer and also use it to get rid of split ends. It's ingenious! Strippers sure know their stuff.

I preceded to Nair my legs and burn the hell out of my skin in the process, but not to worry, I had Coochie Cream. After drying off, I rubbed in the Coochie Cream and went on my merry way. About ten minutes later, my legs began to burn really bad. And, when the burning didn't subside, I called and left my daughter a message. In my calm, professional voice, I said, "Brittany, this is your mother. Please call me back. I have a Coochie Cream question."

Yes, it's the message every daughter wants. When she almost stopped laughing, she called me back. I told her what I did and she simply sighed, giggled and said, "Mom, step away from the hair removal products. Coochie Cream is shaving cream, not after-shave lotion."

"But, the bottle says it's a lotion and a hair conditioner."

" Shaving lotion ... and, mom ...they aren't talking about the hair on your head."

Oh, hell! I'm not naive, but please!

I told her that I'd call her in a few and back into the shower I went to rinse everything off. By now, my legs were in need of a skin transplant.

After all that, I've decided to go back to basic shaving cream and a razor. The hell with soft, smooth legs that are free of five o'clock shadow for two weeks. If I ever have sex again, the man will just have to deal.

That said, I'm off to save money by dying my own hair. They have these new hair products that show you how to add your own highlights at home. It's easy. All you have to do is comb the bleach in first then color over it and, voila, no expensive salon visit. Can you believe that!