It has happened yet again.
I like to think I'm frugal without being a cheapskate. A cheapskate would not buy twelve bars of soap at the same time for fear of running out. A cheapskate would buy them singly for fear of dying before the next purchase was needed.
No, I have an ample supply of the white cakes always at hand in my medicine chest. It’s unwrapping and placing them in the shower that presents my struggle.
How many times do I have to step into the shower, soak my hair and splash water on my face before reaching down to the soap tray to discover…a potato-chip-thin slice of soap-remnant barely large enough to lather one armpit? Will I never learn?
For some reason, even the experience of stretching the crumbling wafer’s usefulness one more day is forgotten the moment I step out of the shower and into a towel. This is the very last opportunity at which a replacement should be staged for future use.
I know there are simple solutions screaming for attention. Don’t lecture me. And please don’t think less of me for failing to correct this moronic behavior. It’s a first world problem for a sleepy early morning guy. Just don’t get me going about the toothpaste…