Growing pains

When I was 11, I had my first run in with deodorant. I was living in Texas at the time, and people in Texas (outside the hick population of course) are pretty big on personal hygiene. I think it stems from the proper Southern upbringing that was so prevalent 100 years ago. Think about it; it used to be a class based society almost.

Anyway. I didn't want to be a stinky guy, so I stole my older brother's stick of crusty white off-brand scented deodorant. He had mentioned he was going to throw it away, so I took it. It was an afternoon, I had just gone swimming and showered, and I was just about to go outside to play with friends. Now in my 11 year old head, I reasoned that people stink because they sweat and deodorant stops the stink where you sweat therefore it must be applied in the places you sweat.

I popped the cap off and twisted what was left of the pasty white crud. It broke off into two large pieces. Carefully pinching the larger of the two between my thumb and forefinger, I began to apply it to my sweaty areas... First my armpits... then my forehead... then the temples of my head... then my chest... then a little bit on my back, and finally... *ahem* down south. I carefully put the broken piece-- now noticeably smaller-- back into the receptacle where it had broken out of, replaced the cap, and stowed away the new treasure in my sock drawer. I proceeded to get dressed, go outside, and play.

Naturally a few hours later after playing outside in a hot Texan summer afternoon, the sweat began to dry and I had white streaks of crusty deodorant everywhere. At first people thought my face was peeling from sunburn. Luckily I realized what it was and washed it all off before anyone really noticed. I then asked my dad where you put deodorant, and quite nonchalantly asked if it went anywhere other than your armpits. Puzzled, I'm sure, but absent-minded at the impact of the question my dad responded that no-- it goes nowhere else.

And that was a lesson learned.

1 comment:

Kermit~the~Frog said...