Stumblr: Life with MS

Back in middle school, my BFF Sarah and I would spend Friday nights on her four-poster bed, a fan pointed directly at us so we could snuggle under all of the covers no matter the time of year, talking into the wee-est of hours. Our favorite game was "What would you do?" and it went pretty much as you'd guess - one would ask the other the question, invariably about a boy's action. The game almost always began with "What would you do if [insert boy-of-the-week's name here] put his hand on your leg and told you you needed to shave?" This led to a flurry of giggles and protestation from the person being questioned because neither of us would ever  be caught with less than silky smooth legs when boy-adjacent. Oh, how times have changed. I wince every time I catch a glimpse of the pelt on my legs presently. It's only a couple of weeks' growth; I am a quarter Italian, so genetics are against me in the battle against body hair. Until the past year I