Of course I'll unscrew the top and take a sniff because I'm a masochist. The little bits of dried gel flake off, dusting my clothes in a fine, chalky powder. I'll wince as the particles waft up my nose. It smells like what can only be described as an armpit high-fiving the Adirondack mountains.
Maybe I'll even put a dab between my fingers and roll it around if I really hate my life. It has a gooey, sticky texture, like a giant's booger.
I'd consider tossing it in the trash but I know that'd be overstepping my bounds. Maybe he likes having it there in case he needs spiky hair for a Halloween costume? Who knows. I'll just toss the tub back in the drawer, wash my hands and pretend that this little crusty product run-in never happened.
7 comments:
Hilarious! Makes me grateful that my man is a minimalist...you rock Anna
Inflicting pain on yourself (ie) sniffing the top makes you a masochist, not a sadist.
You'd be a sadist if you made HIM smell it. Bonus points if you wear a dominatrix-y outfit while doing so.
i wish you would have done a "Something About Mary" moment and spiked your hair.
I believe that is the exact product that I found in my now husbands toiletries! And in 5 years have yet to see him use it!
I clearly have no idea about what I'm talking about. Fixed!
Why do these little mundane things bother you so much? So what, he has some old stuff sitting around in the bathroom. I have old hair products that I keep around just in case; it's not like they're gonna go bad. Geez, take a chill pill woman..
This is meant to be funny. I wouldn't take it so seriously. No chill pill needed!
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