I’m really scared of shampoo. It’s a scary thing. And I’m not being some sort of unhygenic bastard who doesn’t like to wash his hair or anything. That was so last year for me. No, I’m scared of shampoo because it stings. It’s a load of angry soap suds millimetres from the delicate orbs known as my eyes. If God really is an intellegent designer, he’d have known we’d need to clean this matt of dirt that sits atop our heads, and to do so that means getting soap on it. So why put the eyes so close?
I’m really not sure how long I can string out this topic, but I’m going to go on a good old rant, mostly involving my proceedure to maintain eye safety. Oh, and just to get this clear, if you’re shampooing your hair, you don’t need to use showergel. That’s just wanton waste really. You’ve got a whole load of soap on your head, put it to good use and relocate it to your various dirty parts.
It’s not the lathering up that’s scary, although it does contain it’s own risks. It’s the part once you’re a white blob with a face and you have to get all this crap off you. You put your head underneath the stream, angling the water down the back of your neck so you get maximum cleanage for your soap, and everything starts going over your face.
This is the scariest part of cleaning for me. All these damaging suds streaming down my face, getting into crevices only water can get into, and I have my eyes squeezed shut so nothing gets in. Sure, I’m fine now, but what about when I open my eyes? Am I going to be flooded with stinging, eye burning pain? It’s a gamble every time, and while for the most part I’ve dodged the bullet so far, it’s only a matter of time.
So you cup your hands and fill them with water, and then splash it on your face to get rid of any residue. I usually do this two or three times just to be sure, and then tentatively open my eyes. The elation at finding out you’re not in horrendous pain is rather endorphic. But it only lasts so long as it takes to realise I’ll have to do it all again in a few days.