World War Smay

Welcome to Monday, dear reader. It's a frigid one in Southwestern Pennsylvania. Frigid is a recurring theme here on the farm. The last two weeks have been some of the most intense I can remember in a long time. Now, let me preface with The Bibbed Wonder, and I don't battle very often. Like most couples who spend 24/7/365 together, we bicker and can nitpick, but rarely do we actually get into all-out battles that last for days. Well, the last two weeks have been the exception to that standard. 

Admittedly, I can be stubborn. Often, my dad's lectures began and ended with him exasperatedly calling me bull-headed or a hammerhead. However, with age, I have mellowed a bit, and I no longer take the my-way-or-the-highway approach to life or relationships. However, sometimes, dear reader, I know instinctively that I am right. Well, the topic of the past two weeks' battle was one of those times. The problem was that my bib overall-wearing buddy was also thoroughly convinced he was right. This impasse led to days of head-butting, heated conversations, and some really highly emotional conversations.

The culprit of what I am calling World War Smay was a lack of communication. Now, it will come as no surprise that my number-loving, logic-minded, everything-can-be-explained-by-an-equation-and-a-spreadsheet man-brained husband has a very different idea of what effective communication is than I do.   

Here is my version of the events:

Eric: We need to fully cover our soaps to appeal to wholesale accounts. 

Me: Okay, I see what you are saying. As I walked past him in the studio. 

Eric: We should shrink wrap everything. I have samples. Do you like #1 or #2?

Me: Umm, I don't think that is the answer, but let's look into it. Out of the two, I like #1 better. However, I am on the fence with this.  

Eric: I said it, she didn't say no. I pulled the trigger while she was focused on the holiday. I wrapped every ounce of soap we have made in the plastic wrap she said she preferred. Problem solved. 

Sigh. 

I tried to keep my anger in check, but when I was asked to shrink-wrap the remaining soap, I grew increasingly angrier and more exasperated. First, I hate the shrink wrap. I hate everything about it. I hate how it looks. I hate how it blocks the smell. I hate how it feels. I hate EVERYTHING. I tried to be diplomatic and supportive, but when one bib overall wearing trigger puller copped an attitude with me over something meaningless, I lost my proverbial sh**.

I don't exchange my kid gloves for boxing gloves very often, but the kid gloves came off, and the boxing gloves lined with rolls of nickels went on. I try really hard to be open-minded, supportive, and flexible. Shrink wrap was a no-go. I matched his energy, and it was war. We raged at each other over shrink wrap, jobs, participation, decisions, finances, and time. We both unleashed years of pent-up frustration, and U-G-L-Y, I won't stop until you cry! It's ugly, hey, hey, it's ugly. (Just a little old-school cheerleader humor for you.) We said things, mean, accusatory, rude things, and this went on for days. It was either stormy silence or biting remarks. 

As always, I apologized first. Well, I sort of apologized. I said I was sorry for the delivery, but not the message. He didn't say he was sorry for anything. I then reneged on my apology and went off on a tirade, again. This went on for a few more days. Finally, I said to him, "I can't do this with you anymore. You make me not want to work with you." He responded, "Same." Grrr! I said I thought we needed to poll our soap family. We did. You didn't give him the answer he wanted, but secretly, I did a victory dance. I don't gloat...mostly. This led to yet another very heated argument. Finally, I said to him, "Stop thinking like a man and start thinking like a shopper!"

That seemed to reset his focus. I explained that we are moving away from what makes us special. You, dear reader, are me in various shapes, sizes, and ages. I know what makes me smile: Glitter. Pretty. Amazing, unique scents. Natural. Environmentally friendly. Luxurious. A product that makes me feel special, if just for a moment. Something I know is made with kindness to animals, care, and attention to detail. That is what makes me smile. Those are all important to me. Shrink wrap does not convey any of that. Shopping for soap and body care products is a very personal, sensory experience. First, you see the soap. It's so unique and pretty that you want to pick it up and touch it. Once it is in your hand, the first thing you do is hold it up to your nose to smell it. After you smell it, you smile. However, briefly, you smile. I watch it happen all the time. It is precisely what I would do. You are me. 

I explained to him that there is a psychological aspect to packaging. That big, goat soap company whose soap isn't as pretty as mine, or made with as good of ingredients, in large chunky blocks, yeah, the men behind it are master marketers. They know that what is on the outside is the wow factor, and the inside can be just good enough. Marketing is an art and a science. We don't have those mastery-level skills, but I am a shopper. When on a shelf in a fluorescent-lit store with every dingle and bauble known to man vying for your attention, you have thirty seconds to grab one's attention. Your product has to be so pretty and unique that you want to pause in the aisle and pick it up. You want to be enchanted by the package presentation. Then, you want to smell the luxury. In less than sixty seconds, you have to present your product so well that someone picks you out of all the shiny dingles and do-whos, and puts your product in their cart. ...and shrink-wrap isn't making that happen!

Finally, we understood each other. We could then move on to problem-solving and making progress. So, what did we learn from this experience, dear reader? Well, we learned that major decisions should not be made without at least one good sit-down conversation. We also learned that effective communication is critical. Most importantly, we learned to listen to our soap family. You have spoken, we have listened. The shrink wrap is gone. The Bibbed Wonder cut it off himself without any urging from me. 

It dawned on me, after the dust settled, that these hard two weeks were necessary. The anger, frustration, and upheaval had to happen because it shook us out of complacency. We were becoming very complacent with our business approach. We were doing what we knew, what worked, and we really weren't thinking about change or improvement. It has quite literally become lather, rinse, repeat. That approach doesn't work well for very long. 

So, we just had our first meeting of 2026. We have revisited old ideas and placed importance on new ones, doing so with clarity and respect. We are all on the same page, and it feels right. We have a plan for repackaging, but it won't be overnight. Important decisions can't be made in a snap. They have to be made with care, thoughtfulness, and logic. You will be happy to know that shrink wrap is not part of the plan. Trust me, it's going to be beautiful and perfect, or it won't happen. Our packages will remain a gift from us to you, because we cannot do this without you. Our packages are a tangible representation of our appreciation for all you do for us. Good things are coming in 2026, dear reader. I am so excited to have you be a part of it.  

Sometimes we have to be shaken to our core to shake things up and grow. Conflict is difficult, but it is necessary. How we approach it and what we learn from it are the spoils of war. Thank goodness, we don't do this very often! My little heart and mind can't handle it. However, with the ideas we all presented today, it is a good thing. 

On this frigid Monday, stay safe, be smart, listen, communicate, and be open. Good things will come, and of course, keep washing your hands.