Late, late, late last night, after a wedding so good it nearly broke me of my secret plans to elope should I ever tie the knot myself, I ended up alone in a hotel room with the three bridesmaids, all of whom were fairly drunk. None the less, I am terribly disappointed to admit that Helen Jane still doesn
My mother, indignant about my earlier posting regarding her shampoos and conditioners, helpfully pointed out the inaccuracy of the data I had presented; the thirty two bottles weren’t all hers, she explained, and they also weren’t all shampoo. Drawing on her background as a field-leading social science researcher, she conducted a more rigorous examination, allowing me to present this revised tally:
Along Side of Shower:
– 5 bottles of her shampoo
– 9 bottles of her conditioner
– 7 bottles of my father’s (or possibly my brother’s) shampoo
– 8 bottles of body wash
– 3 bottles of face wash
– 1 bottle of unidentifiable amber liquid
I stand corrected. Thanks, mom, for clearing that up.