Mini Spa

Oops! Apparently my subconscious mind is protesting the increase to six things from five. My mom emailed to tell me I'd only posted five. So...one more thing....

6. I'm not good at small talk (at all), and as I've mentioned before, I'm not much of a hugger. I'm sort of an island that way.

In other news, I was commiserating with a friend over how our husbands go on these business trips and only ever bring us back the soaps and shampoos from the hotels (her husband's haul is generally considerably more ritsy than mine's), and she carted out a tub full of stuff. I mentioned how much my younger son would love such a selection--he loves those tiny little bottles, and then the conversation moved on to something else. My boys then played at her house for an hour or so, and then came home, the little one carting a pink gift back full of the aforementioned little bottles.

He spent the next thirty minutes organizing and sorting on the kitchen counter. He, of course, treated himself to the most luxurious of the stash, making sure to give himself complete sets of products. The rest was divvied up among the family, and he apologized for having given me the least. He then explained that my husband obviously needed the most, 'because he has armpit hair'. Say no more.


This is his selection, arranged on his bookshelf next to Darth Maul and Han Solo. For the past two days, his showers have been mini spa treatments. His buzzed little head is getting treated to Mint Thyme shampoo and conditioner, which he pronounces 'Mint Ta-may'. It's all very upscale.