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  • Writer's pictureTina

Violated and Defiled

I can handle a lot of gross things. I may not enjoy it, but I can deal with it. If one has pets, one has messes. Dogs eat disgusting things and then suffer gastrointestinal distress. I can clean up the said mess with little gagging. If one has children, one has messes. I can handle nasty diapers, even vomit with little to no reaction. However, everyone, myself included, has a grossness trigger. You know, that one thing that makes you gag, repulses you to no end and gives you the shivers if you even think about it. For me, my grossness trigger is loose hair.

Loose hair on anything, anywhere, makes my skin crawl. If there is going to be a hair found in food, it will be my plate. If there is hair hanging out on the shower wall, it will be found on my soap. The worst is that hair on the bathroom counter will end up wrapped in my toothbrush bristles…commence gagging. I detest loose hair. My husband and child know this about me. My level of repulsion is so high that they don’t torment me about it. That says something because they torment me with everything.

My bean has turned into a shedding beast with her lovely head of long, flowing hair. I find her hair everywhere. There are long golden strands on my couch pillows. I find long golden strands on my clothing. I even find long golden strands in my bed. She is a shedding beast. I have taken to calling her Cousin It. She sees no humor in my comparison. I grumble and growl in all the listed situations, but I don’t gag. However, she has taken her hair shedding to a whole new level.

As I stepped into the shower, ready to wash away the stress and unwind, I looked down at my shampoo bottle, and curled around the base of the bottle was what looked like a small dead creature. I gave a sharp cry, stepped out of the shower, turned the water off, and moved in to examine the possible dead creature that had expired at the base of my shampoo bottle. Much to my dismay and repulsion, I found it to be a HUGE glob of The Bean’s hair. Seriously, this thing was as big as the palm of my hand. It was wet, stringy, and the epitome of gross. I tried to suppress the urge to gag. If my bean had been home, she would have gotten the scolding of her life and been ordered to clean it up. However, she was at school and safe from my wrath. I reluctantly got a big wad of tissues and commenced cleaning up the offending mass of Bean hair. With my stomach feeling a bit weak, I took my shower and put aside my disgust. However, my morning of repulsion would not end with the dead critter in the shower incident.

My sense of smell has not returned in full. So, I have no idea how my husband smells. This, for the most part, is a blessing. However, he could pull off a sneak attack with my lack of scent. I purchase personal hygiene products in bulk. I always have a stock of toothpaste, toothbrushes, shampoo, conditioner, and deodorant. When he runs out of anything, he puts the empty container on my counter in the bathroom to let me know he needs to be restocked. Until I see an empty tube of toothpaste or an empty deodorant container, I believe all is right with the world.

Recently, I have noticed my deodorant container on my sink. I usually put my products away when I am done using them. So, finding them on the counter has made me go, hmmm, for the past week or so. I never thought someone else would be using my deodorant. Until I found long, curling, obviously armpit hairs cloistered onto my Secret deodorant. I was repulsed. I was annoyed. Then, I was irritated. Without tossing my cookies, I could not pick the long, curling, obviously armpit hair off my deodorant. Loose head hair is disgusting, but loose body hair is vomitous. I slammed the lid onto my deodorant, uttered my catchphrase of, “Dammit, Eric!” and went in search of my hairy armpit, deodorant violating husband.

When confronted, he started to giggle. I told him how disgusting he is, how he crosses boundaries, and how repulsive it is to find someone else’s armpit hair on your deodorant. The more I went on, the harder he laughed. He told me he prefers to use Secret because it works better than his deodorant, and he likes the girly smell. If I had been able to smell, I would have known he was using my deodorant by his fresh-scented baby powder armpits. Sigh. I finished my chastising with, “Dammit, Eric! Just because it’s strong enough for a man doesn’t mean you can use it!” and stomped back to the bathroom to open a new container of deodorant. I put the offensive and defiled container on his sink and vowed to hide my deodorant from then on.

When we do our big remodel, I have decided that I am not sharing a bathroom with anyone. I will have my own bedroom where my Heavy-B and I can reside in peace without ridicule for heavy breathing, twitching, or jerking in our sleep. I will also have my own ensuite bathroom, complete with a dog shower where no one will pull huge knots from their head and wipe them on my products or defile my deodorant with their hairy armpits. Actually, I may just move to my own house rather than share with the incorrigible neanderthals who share my abode currently. Seriously, they have no boundaries. Sigh.

That is my humorous lament for the day. As always, dear reader, stay safe, be smart, for the love of all that’s holy, don’t use someone else’s deodorant, don’t put huge clumps of hair in the shower, and wash your hands.

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Time for a "she shed"?

Jan 24, 2022
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A She Shed would be lovely! You may be on to something. 😆

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