By Rich, guest writer and husband of Beauty Snob Kelly
I’m an average guy. I wouldn’t consider myself a metrosexual or anything like that, so my shower during my bachelor days had only 3 things. A bar of soap, one bottle of shampoo, and a washcloth. Ok 4, a bottle of conditioner I used every once in awhile. When the bar of soap ran out and slipped down the drain, I bought another one to replace it. When the shampoo bottle breathed its last breath of shampoo, I bought another one. I never had more than one type of product in the shower, and I liked it.
All of that changed during my transition to married life. I was introduced to the complicated world that women inhabit. The shower became filled with multiple bottles of shampoos, conditioners, body creams, lotions, exfoliants, body washes, facial soaps, a wash that smelled like the beach (did they steal that from Kramer on Seinfeld), products that contained oatmeal, mud and various other bottles of things I have no idea what they did.
I’m a simple man, so I pretty much only need something to clean my body (soap) and something to clean my hair (shampoo). So a few weeks ago, we ran out of the body wash we were using and my wife replaced it with a bar of soap…or what I thought was soap. It was shaped like a bar of soap, and it was in the same place that the body wash was, so I assumed it was soap. Ah, it reminded me of my bachelor days…but of course, everyone knows what happens when you assume.
About this same time, I started going to the gym more frequently and came home pretty sweaty, so when I reached for this bar of “soap”, I felt secure in the knowledge that my skin was being cleansed by this hardy brick of soap. But after a few days, down in the nether regions, things weren’t going so well. I broke out in the nastiest case of jock itch I’ve ever had. I kept cleaning, and cleaning, like Lady Macbeth trying to get the blood off of her hands, but to no avail. The itch never went away and only got worse.
I finally went to my wife and asked about this new bar of “soap” she put in the shower and she kindly informed me that it was not soap, but an exfoliating bar. At this point, I was walking around bow legged like a cowboy who’d been on a horse for 10 days straight. After spouting a few choice words about things pretending to be not what they were, I begged for some proper soap so I could actually remove the dirt and bacteria that had been building up over the last several days. My wife handed me a bottle of body wash. The Dr. Bronner’s Peppermint soap. I like the tingly feeling on my pals. It’s straight forward, soap.
I guess the moral of this story is, guys, if a women puts a bar of soap in the shower, it probably isn’t.