Surely you know the feeling. That moment when you realize your soap is nearly gone. I don’t care which kind of soap you use – at some point, you’ve all been there – there’s just a tad bit more left in the jar. You pound it against the counter, squeeze it, shake it in the air, take off the cap and just wait for it. Just for that last teeny little drop.

Last night, it was the toothpaste.  I squeezed, twisted and pressed the life out of that precious little tube. I eventually opted out and found a toothpick to coax the last toothbrush-worthy bit of toothpaste out.

The night before, it was facewash. There’s something comforting about facewash’s promise that it’s gentle enough for use several times a day… but strong enough that you only need to use it once.  It’s not until you have to use regular old dial handsoap on the precious canvas that is the face that you realize just how true that promise is.

Tonight? My “soap opera” of empty containers continued in the place you’d least expect it – a bar of soap. Sure, in theory, a bar of soap seems like the way to beat the system. When it’s gone, it’s gone. No negotiation. False. Look at a bar of soap and ask yourself this question: WHEN do you decide it’s gone? When it’s dissappeared? When it falls apart? Or is it when it’s still there, but the part that is left is as thin as a piece of paper and it sticks to everything?   That’s what happened tonight.  The paper-thin bar of soap separated into thousands of little pieces… but still was not gone until I forced it down the drain. That’ll teach that silly soap.

I have a feeling it will be the shampoo tomorrow. Shampoo is the tricky one. It always runs out long after the conditioner – it seems to be the song that never ends. Like Narnia’s “always winter, never Christmas”… there seems to always be shampoo, never conditioner. Until that one day that, suddenly, old Shampoo is gone. Used up. Kaput. What do you do then? If you’re fortunate enough to live in a house with multiple showers, you can always borrow from them.  Even shampoo from the boy’s shower is better than no shampoo at all.

The best soap in the entire house is dish soap. Not sure what it would do to clothing, hair or faces… but when put against greasy pans, nasty floors, and windows (hopefully not all at once) it is a thing to behold.  Plus, it has a lovely fresh flavor. Er.. I mean sent. I’ve never eaten dish soap. It would probably eat away at the lining of my stomach.