On any given day, I find myself in a field of flowers, surrounded by the scents of roses, cherry blossoms, lilies and lavender.
And I haven’t even stepped into the garden yet.
No, these scents come from the shower, where a bouquet of bottles is lined up in various floral and fruit scents.
These are not my husband’s.
I find Herbal Essences and Philosophy products in there, but a current favorite among the resident teen is a Burt’s Bees’ product called güd.
The “natural nourishing” shampoo du jour: Floral Cherrynova, which promises to leave hair smelling like cherry blossoms and almond milk.
And the “softening conditioner”: Pearanormal Activity in scents of pear and açaí berry.
After realizing these scents do not match, my attention goes to the back of the conditioner bottle where I read these words: “Dear hair, You. Me. Girls weekend.”
Followed by: “Hey hair, it’s me, your conditioner. Let’s hop in the car and go. Cuz you’re looking pretty amazing and smelling like juicy pear and açaí berry. Woot-woot!”
To which I want to reply: “Hey, conditioner. Where are you taking our daughter, and who exactly is driving? Woot-woot!”
Although I’m a proponent of not buying a new product until the old one is used up, I know it doesn’t always work out that way. I did the same thing when I was a teen, and my inventory of hair products in the shower drove my father crazy.
He would neatly line up the shampoos and conditioners, shortest to tallest I am sure, and I would go in there later on when it was my turn to shower and knock them all over like bowling pins again.
I’m not like that anymore.
I also learned a couple of years ago that if you ever take a couple of middle schoolers to the mall with the plan to stop at several stores and actually be productive, do not start at Bath & Body Works. You will never make it to the other stores.
They can spend days in there, simply checking out those pocket-size bottles of sanitizing hand gels that come in 10 zillion scents. Ocean Sunset! Sweet Pea! Get Me Out of Here Before I Scream!
We’re past that stage.
Speaking of stages, I’m reminded of something a parent told me years ago: There is a time when a parent decides when it is bath time followed by a time when you can hardly get a child into the shower followed by a time when you can hardly get her out of the shower.
A final thought: If you ever see a bottle of conditioner driving down the street with our daughter in the passenger seat, please alert the authorities. Woot-woot!