There are these things called shower gloves. I learned of them four months ago and they received rave reviews from the woman who referred them to me. They scrub off all the dead skin, gardening dirt and goat grime that accumulates on your unsuspecting, soap resisting skeleton sack.
Just the other day, they jumped out at me in the grocery store aisle. Nearly made it right onto my hands.
$2.39 impulse purchase.
For me, the idea of having something that would REALLY clean my epidermis was attractive because I have found that even after I wash with really sudsy, deep cleaning goat milk soap, if I scratch my skin after showering, I sometimes end up with dirtish colored stuff under my fingernails. Yuck.
Enter: Shower Gloves.
I’ll attempt to paint a picture of the shower glove experience for you:
You stand under the cascading warm shower water, and melt into relaxation in your birthday suit. You wash your hair and rinse.
Now that it’s time to wash your body, you don your shower gloves.
(Process this in your mind: You are in the shower. All wet. You’re putting gloves on? Your mind requires a reboot: it thinks you must be mistaken and that you are actually going sledding. Yet the gloves feel like sandpaper. Reboot Again: it now thinks you are a construction worker. Naked. In the shower. Final Reboot: yes, you are showering, with gloves on.)
You commence rubbing the bright blue, soapy sandpaper on your face, careful not to create rug burns. Your legs and arms are tougher, you scrub them harder. Dirt, grime, dead skin…THESE GLOVES TAKE NO PRISONERS.
You rinse off, get out of the shower and scratch. Nothing under the fingernails.
The verdict: They work.
But you’re still not sure if it’s wise to use sandpaper in the shower. Just seems weird.
- The Goat Cheese Lady
P.S. According to my 7-year-old, weird is just a side effect of awesome. I guess that makes shower gloves awesome? Not sure about that yet.
P.P.S. This is the uncut version of the same post that ran a couple of weeks ago on the IndyBlog.