“We’re out of soap in this bathroom, too?” my husband called down the stairs.
“Yup! It seems all of the winter scented soaps have run out at the same time. I’ll have to pick up some more.”
Was that irritation I felt wafting in the air?
Later in the day, after I’d gone to the grocery, he asked, “Did you get any soap?”
“Nope! I want to get it from Bath and Body Works. I went to Mukwonago, not Waukesha.”
Could I hear the Hrmphhh he did not vocalize?
I went upstairs to one of my bathroom drawers and extracted two bars of soap—so old fashioned—it’s all pump and foam these days? One bar was a gift and the other I brought home in my suitcase from a hotel stay. I pulled some small pottery dishes from the kitchen cabinet and placed a soap dish by the kitchen and powder room sinks.
That was Sunday.
On Tuesday, I finally stocked up on more lemon, tangerine, black cherry, and crisp morning air soap pumps. So much plastic!
I decided we’ll use up the bar soaps before moving back to foam.
And what I’ve observed is…
I like the feel of bar soap in my hands.
I wash and scrub longer….
I don’t just squirt and rinse.
Do you ever find novelty in something old?
I love the slight scratchy feel of handwriting with fountain pens, the softness on my nose of an old cotton hankie washed a thousand times, the satisfaction of grinding spices with a mortar and pestle...I'm sure I could go on...
Including Alexa there are four different names 9you can use.