As everyone knows, I live in a house of males; even the cat is male. I have often pondered if this is some sort of cosmic joke because I am such an ardent womanist. There are certain things that I thought I could assume because I am the lone female in house. I never thought I would have to line them up and yell at them about missing tampons. It seems they make great bumpers for dinky cars, never mind that they have another purpose. I have given up on the idea that the bath tub is an inviting place, after constantly hearing MOM in a shrill whiny tone, every time they can’t find something, have engaged in a licking war, or are hungry. (Why oh why must they lick each other and why should I care?) I won’t even tell you about the fracas after I finally insisted on a working lock on the bathroom door. Some would say that I should be pleased because my men clearly find me necessary in their day to day lives, however; the multiplying grey hair on my head tell another story.
I recently discovered these really awesome vegan soaps.
Taking a bath with these is absolutely luxurious. You only need the smallest amount to come up with the most delightful bubbles. I turned to them because the men would never give me enough peace to sustain a wonderful bath. It seems that seeing the jars in the shower has just become to tempting for them. I went to use my pumpkin pie one, when I discovered HUGE CHUNKS taken out of it. It seems that the men like to smell pretty as well. I should have known that if messing with tampons was an irresistible urge, that they would not leave my precious vegan soaps alone.
I just ordered a few more jars and I intend to hide them when they come in. Something in this house has to belong to me. I am worried that no matter where I choose to hide them they will hunt them down. You see, the men are crafty. Just recently the baby poured a glass of water on his bed so that he could sleep with us for the night. He knew we would not make him sleep in a wet bed or force him on his brother and he is is only four. He climbed in like he was the king of the castle, stretching and smiling like a cheshire cat the whole time. See what I am up against….Someone somewhere has to feel my suffering.
They are lucky I think each one of them is adorable and that I am outnumbered. In this battle of the sexes I fear that I have already lost. From tampon thievery to requesting that I lift the toilet seat when I am done (yes you read that right) the men have run amok. I shall have to marshal all of my available strength to guard my precious soap. Perhaps yelling I am woman hear me roar will distract them long enough for me to go on the offensive, rather than continually playing defence. War has been declared and I may not emerge unscathed but something in this house has to woman only.
