“Have you had thrush before madam?” sounds the loud, clear voice from behind the counter.  I open my mouth instinctively to answer while realising at the exact same moment that I’m at the head of a very long queue.  I resist the urge to turn and survey my audience before diving across the counter and bopping the young fuckwit over the head with my bag.  Instead, I look him straight in his baby blues and manage a stiff “yes.  And thanks for that”. 

He looks back at me with an innocent twenty-something face, not realising my embarrassment.  Yes, I’ve had an itchy vagina before, it hurts when I pee and occasionally there’s white stuff in my knickers.  OK?!

What would he know about genital betrayal?! The worst he’s probably had to deal with is accidentally sitting on his own testicles.  Would he announce that at the top of his lungs in front of a bunch of strangers?

In the future, I’ll ask for the female assistant who knows to lower her voice or ask ‘have you used this product before, Madam?’  Bloody boys!  His mother should have sat him down as a teenager and given him a blow by blow account of the many leaks and discharges of the female anatomy until he was utterly traumatised.

“Will I bleed when I’m older Mummy?” asks my youngest child.

“Yes, you will, boo.  It’s just one of the many annoyances you’ll have to deal with as a woman:  Periods, thrush, UTI’s, childbirth (if you so choose), and annoying boys stood behind the pharmacy counter waiting to make your day”.