Scampoo

The airport security guard took my shampoo. Not just any shampoo, the shampoo I got from the fancy hotel in Dallas, where we stayed for Pete’s funeral. It came in generous 4.2 oz bottles. Elinor, Amy, and I managed to sweet talk housekeeping into giving us six sets of the shampoo and conditioner--coconut flavored, Kiehl’s brand, exclusive to Bloomingdales, and NOT cheap. The method of acquiring it added yet another dimension to its already luxurious appeal. I just feel a certain kinship with my friends when I use it. It even reminds me of Pete, who probably never even spent a full minute thinking about toiletries when he was alive, but whatever, it reminds me of that weekend. Just by association, this shampoo makes me think about enjoying and celebrating life.

And, it’s not hard to make that leap. This stuff is so delicious smelling. When I use this shampoo, I turn into one of those shower ladies in television ads, who massage their scalp with orgasmic sighs. Afterwards, I pat my hair gently with a fluffy towel and then I spend the rest of the day feeling pretty and trying in vain to smell my own hair.

I’ve been hording these bottles since October, because they are travel size and I don’t want to share them with Scott who just won’t enjoy them enough to merit that kind of generosity. He’ll squirt out way too much. He’ll waste my treasure. This shampoo brings out the most selfish little 10-year-old in me. I save it for trips, not only because of its convenient size, but because it makes me look forward to traveling. Using all those strange bathrooms that are void of all my special comforts is not so bad when I have my favorite shampoo.

That’s why, last night I probably spent a half an hour trying to find a way to get this shampoo into an airport-security-approved container. I even looked up the guidelines on the internet. No, I wouldn’t jettison a single ounce of the yummy, matching bath gel that comes in a 2.6 ounce bottle, but I would carefully transfer 2 ounces of the precious unction into a 2.2 ounce nail-polish-remover bottle. This was Scott’s brilliant idea (perhaps I shouldn’t be so stingy with the stuff). I fell asleep soundly knowing I was bringing just enough shampoo to keep my hair looking sleek and shiny all weekend.

Alas, you already know the end of this tale of woe. You probably knew the rule that your three ounces of shampoo had to come in a properly labeled container. Those stingy shampoo-stealing monsters.

[Image from: http://www.kiehls.com/]