Showering again
Apr 09, 2008 | 1341 views | 0 0 comments | 39 39 recommendations | email to a friend | print
Several of you get uncomfortable when I talk about showering, but really, I get some of my best ideas when I am in the shower.

So there I am, all lathered up and exfoliating my body in the shower all by myself. I haven’t enjoyed exfoliating like this in some time.

I am using an oatmeal-raisin-pumice-pomegranate bar, which is rough enough to sand the fender of my truck. I don’t know if there is a proper procedure to use when exfoliating; but I do know nothing feels as good as a freshly exfoliated foot.

I feel a little guilty exfoliating by myself and I start to wonder if I am not supposed to. I don’t remember anything from growing up.

I can’t recall someone saying, “Thou shalt not exfoliate by one self.” But, I have to be honest here and I know many of you will be shocked, but I wasn’t always paying attention during Sunday School.

My memory isn’t what it used to be and my hand writing isn’t so legible, so what if in place of a “thou shalt NOT” I accidentally wrote “thou shalt”. It reminds me of a Mark Twain quote, “Be careful about reading health books. You may die from a misprint!”

So I am exfoliating in the shower by myself trying to relax and think of something to write about.

I shampoo my hair with Lavender-Green Apple scented shampoo. I decide to make my hair into a mohawk just to see what I would look like if I decide to get more punk in my image.

I look in the mirror; I almost like it except that I look like Cindy Lou Who. Maybe all this exfoliating is making it so I don’t think clear. But, I have been thinking of trying to get a more youthful appearance. I decide to shave off half of my mustache and look in the mirror from one side to the other; still not much younger looking.

It takes so long to lather up that I start to wonder if I am gaining weight. Of course I am insecure, mostly because I am naked and wet, you can’t be secure when you are wet and naked.

But, it reminds me that I wanted to write about how embarrassed I get because we have to put the size of clothes on the outside of our pants? I don’t want the world to know that I am wider than I am tall.

Does anybody need to know what size I am around the waist and how long my inseam is?

Why don’t we all lie and cut off the tag from skinnier jeans and sew them on our pants so that it says I am 30 inches wide and 36 inches tall.

And besides, I don’t want people measuring my inseam. Perhaps I am a little insecure, I don’t know.

Last time I let someone measure my inseam was for Junior Prom in 1977 and I jumped when the nice lady tried to measure me.

I don’t see why we need to wear the size of our jeans on a tag for the world to see and judge us by. We don’t make people wear a sign that tells us their credit score, or SAT score, their annual salary or their IQ.

All of that would be useful information and could avoid many unwarranted judgments. I just don’t know why we all wear a sign on our pants that shows what size they are.

What if I put a sign over the tag that says, “My other pair of jeans is smaller”?

Why don’t we just put a “Wide Load” sign on the back of your pants if you exceed a certain width to height ratio? Then just like a pilot car we can make accommodations and move over a little bit or charge them a little more at the buffet line or maybe give them a little bigger seat on the plane.

You know, we all have a pair of pants that we call our “skinny pants”, they usually only fit in the morning. We wear them when we want to feel younger and hipper than our more usual “relax fit” jeans.

If I wear my “skinny jeans”, by the afternoon they are too tight. This is due to gravity I think. I don’t know. I can’t eat any food while wearing my “skinny jeans” or I have to un-tuck my shirt and unsnap my top button.

Once when we were at dinner with this nice lady she ate a little too much and she unsnapped her top button to her pants at the dinner table, she exploded like an air-bag in a head on collision. Boom!

We were all pinned against the booth. Who could have known she was one burger away from an explosion. Maybe, it would have been helpful to know what size her jeans were.

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