Bundle Up and Put The Weed-Wacker In Storage

When I get waxed down there, or should I say when I participate in paid torture, I tell myself that it's really for me. I like to feel clean, neat..hygenic. Like hair removal from my upper lip or, say, my toes. It's just part of the basic upkeep for being a well-groomed gal, regardless of whether or not my nakedness is a one-woman show or more of a comedy festival tour. But then the winter comes. And we hunker down. And we bundle up. And suddenly I de-evolve to one of my more hirsute ancestors. Nothing, especially down there, is touched for months. Is it really an innate desire to keep warm, just as animals get thicker coats when the seasons change? Or am I just supremely lazy person who would certainly be the walking equivalent of Busch Gardens if it weren't for Spring, Summer and (early) Fall?