Simple suds

The T and I are simple folk at heart. We have few needs and don't ask for much. For instance, neither of us can understand why some shampoos cost $10 or more for a 12-ounce bottle. What gives? The ingredients look the same to me. Well, we finally found a brand we really like about five years ago. It's inexpensive and our hair doesn't react to it after a week of use and go all insta-oily immediately aftering toweling off following a shower.

So far, our only complaint with this shampoo is that the marketing department seems to think that the bottle must change every eight weeks or so to keep the product fresh and in the face of the wandering consumer. For us, faithful customers that we are, this constant label tweaking means we have to hunt for the bottle every time we need to restock. There is this brief moment of panic when I think the brand has disappeared and then—poink!—there it is, plain as day in a new outfit. A heavy sigh usually ensues.

But the last trip to the ol' suds aisle has me dismayed. Not only was it hard to find the shampoo but once I did I noticed that the shelf space allotted to this brand seems to be shrinking. The UPC tags of the other brands are encroaching. I fear we will have to find a new brand. Oh, poop.

So I brought home a couple of constestants. If you'd been listening in, this might be what you heard:

Me: So what did you think of shampoo X?

The T: I thought it smelled a little like dead fish when you put it on your head.

Me: Hmm. Smelled like bubble gum or watermelon to me. This goes a long way toward explaining the differences in our ... (pause) ... food choices, I think.