Socks, by Mist1

I have an affinity for body products.  I cannot resist them.  If it smells
fruity and promises to make me even more soft and supple than I already am,
I will buy it.  Unless, it is cuticle cream.  I don’t know why, but I am
opposed to cuticle cream.  My cuticles are all I have to prevent germs from
entering my body.  I will not have my nails done for this reason.  Yes, I
will have my toes done.  Yes, I know this is a contradiction, but it just
seems that I put my hands in more unsanitary places during the course of a
day.  My feet are generally in my fabulous shoes, so I don’t worry about
them so much.

I was driving by a discount crap store the other day.  They have had a large
sign outside all week, telling me that they are having an unbelievable sale
on really, really old body products that wouldn’t sell anywhere else.
Unable to resist any longer, I decided to do some shopping.

The first impulse purchase that I almost made was the head wipes by a
company called Bald Guyz.  These wipes are supposed to polish a bald head
into a perfect shine.  I wanted to buy them so badly, but I am not bald…on
my head.  I scrolled through my phone book to find a bald man, but
apparently, I am into men with hair right now.  I thought about buying them
anyway to try them on the parts of myself that are bald, but my eye was
caught by another product at a discounted price.

I adore body butter.  What did I do before body butter?  I love those
perfect little tubs of scented butter.  Mango, raspberry sorbet,
tangerine…I love them all.  Because I do not want you all to know how
cheap I am, I will not tell you the ridiculous price that I paid for three
different scented tubs of body butter.  I got pomegranate and coconut and
rain.  To be fair, the rain one doesn’t really smell like rain.  It smells
more like Raid.  Not that I have problems with pests in my immaculately
clean town home.  Anyway, I have been massaging body butter into my toes for
days.  They are button cute and suckable if you are into that kind of thing.
I won’t ask for it, but I don’t mind.

This morning, I took a long shower.  I never like to rush in the shower.  I
have a process.  I get in and stand there for awhile and try to remember
what I did the night before.  Then I shampoo.  Sometimes, I get dizzy at
this point and have to sit down.  I apply conditioner and begin to run
through a series of activities to kill three minutes, which is the magic
number when it comes to conditioner.  This is when I put on my body gloves
and run my hands over my deliciously soft skin, especially my elbows.  Then,
I brush my teeth.  I always gag when I brush my teeth.  It’s funny, because
I’ve never had a problem with anything else jabbing deep into my soft
palate.  Just my toothbrush.  Usually, at this point, I have to sit down
again.  I take the time to examine my legs and other stuff to see if I need
a waxing appointment.

After my shower, I always put on my robe.  I sit in my grimy robe for a few
hours on the couch.  This, I thought, was the perfect time to hydrate my
skin with my new body butter.  I smoothed it on my feet.  I rubbed and
massaged and inhaled the coconut scent.  Out of curiosity, I read the
label.  My new body butter is a self-tanning body butter.  In horror, I
examined my feet.  They are slightly darker than the rest of my legs.

I am saving a fortune in socks.

Mist 1

PS: Thanks for letting me babysit your blog, Britt.  No one ever lets me
babysit.  I am not trustworthy.