The French have a thing with washcloths. The kind to be used in the shower, I mean. I'll never get it. My theory on soap is: soap is clean. I don't mind sharing soap with you. Yes, even you, Dirty Homeless Woman, Washing Your Feet in the Public Restrooms. If I really feel like your dirty self destroyed the precious soap in some way, and I can't stand it, I'll rinse the soap. And then, boom! Whaddya know? Clean soap.
For a time, The Boy and I used liquid Palmolive soap. I was recently informed that this is the ghetto soap in France (I forget who intimated that to me, but it came as quite a blow), in much the way White Rain has ever been imprinted as crappy shampoo in my mind (am I the only one? And who gave me that idea? Television?).
I stuck to the Palmolive because it was cheap and could be bought in earth-friendly tubes that refilled the plastic dispenser bottle. I still don't understand how people can justify continuously buying their soaps in bottles when refills are RIGHT BELOW. Cheaper, too.
One day, I was at the natural foods store and I decided to pick up some Sweet Almond Oil soap. I don't know exactly what came over me, maybe the fact that it was on sale, or that it smelled like scrumtious baby headness, or that I knew it was made of all natural ingredients. Maybe it was my newfound obsession with Almond Oil. Or maybe I just needed to get my total to over ten euros so that I could use my card to buy the stuff in my basket. Regardless, I splurged and spent almost two whole euros on three whole bars of soap.
At first, it was TWOO WOVE, in its highest form. My skin is super soft when I use it, and The Boy loves, loves, loves the smell. Also, bars last WAY longer than liquid soap, and I have forever been converted back to the bars of my youth for cost efficiency reasons. I honestly don't know what I was ever thinking going the liquid route (especially since I'm anti-washcloth).
However. We have a problem.
This soap is racist.
It's the weirdest thing. Every time The Boy takes a shower, the bathtub is filthy afterwards - it's a sort of ring-around-the-collar effect, but the bathtub version. With The Little Guy, it was the same story. Me? Nada. Nothing. Clean as a whistle.
We're convinced the Racist Soap is peeling The Boy's skin off, layer by layer, whitening him up for the winter. We even ran tests, to see just how racist the stuff was. Man, it is some racist soap. After two or three of The Boy's showers, I just break down and HAVE to clean the thing. It's disgusting.
So now I'm torn: Get rid of that racist shit? Or keep the cheap, good-smelling, skin-softening delicious soapy goodness, knowing it means I have to clean my bathtub at least twice per week? (side note: The Boy is completely for the new soap, he just doesn't like its racist attitude. Otherwise, he thinks it's great for the skin and quite a bargain. He, I might add, has yet to clean the bathtub once).
I still have a whole bar and a half left to decide.
; "Catching fish")
Tee hee.
Suave belongs in the same category with White Rain IMO.