One of my old Christmas "Beat 13" Colums reprinted just for you

[BigMcLargehuge]

Originally published in the 2000 and 2001 Christmas issues of Hippopress. I own all rights.

Soap does not a Happy Christmas Make

Big McLargehuge

I have never had the bad luck to receive a gift of soap for Christmas, though on occasion I have made the social error of offering someone soap as a token of my love.

Learn from my mistake. Never, every give anyone soap as a gift.

No matter which super expensive, designer, we-don’t-test-this-on-animals store you wander into, no matter how enticing the mango and pommegrannet gift basket may appear, the festive pink and orange liquids inside the clear plastic bottles are soap.

Some of you may think, “gee, Aunt Matilda gave me some kiwi fruit, honey, and banana pancake body wash (i.e. soap), shampoo (i.e. soap), and facial scrub (i.e. more soap) last Christmas and I liked it...” If you are one of the people that thinks like this I have three words for you.

Wash more often.

A gift of soap, be it at Christmas, Hannukah, or any other holiday carries the message, “you smell, and since I only see you at family gatherings like this one I wish I had given this to you a day earlier.”

I wandered into one of these designer stores with housands of pastel green and orange gift baskets, tubes and bottles of soap, and all of which were eagerly, in some cases angrilly, snapped up by hoardes of shoppers.

Don't they know that this is soap? It's soap... It doesn't matter if it contains key lime and watermelon extract, it's soap. Soap Soap Soap Soap.

Now, I admit that some of my relatives have body odor powerful enough to knock a skunk off of a dumpster, but that is beside the point. Think of this, would you want someone to give you deodorant or toothpaste for Christmas? I know that luxurious bubble bath may seem like a wonderful gift idea, but it is in the same class as luxurious quilted toilet paper.

No one wants a gift that they have to keep in the bathroom.

It isn't just the fear of offending the gift recipient that makes soap such a poor gift choice either. Soap gifts also have other potentially harmful side effects.

For example, when I was a teen my mother bought some special shampoo for the family. This shampoo contained “specially chosen fragrances of several species of tropical wild flowers and fortified with natures best product, honey.” These ingredients, which smelled very nice, were intended to bring more body and shine to our hair.

This added body came in the shape of angry bees because one wash-rinse-repeat with this miracle shampoo brought every yellow jacket, hornet, bumble and honeybee for fifty miles swarming for our heads.

My dad, who is allergic to bee stings, accused mom of purchasing this shampoo for the sole purpose of swarm-born murder.

It wasn’t even Christmas.

One year I made the mistake of giving my lovely wife a gift basket full of mango and coconut soap products. When she opened it that Christmas morning her first reaction was to sniff her armpits and ask, "do you think I smell?"

Ho ho ho, merry Christmas... Stinky.

To my knowledge this gift still resides at the very bottom of our "things we never, ever, ever touch" closet. Why? Well, my wife knows the story of mom and dad and all the bees in Massachusetts, so I think she fears that the tropical scents of these various pink fluids will bring swarms of baboons and fruit bats, the surviving cast members of Gilligans and Fantasy Island, and who knows what else.

I can't say I blame her.

[BigMcLargehuge]

1. Kick

:kick:

No one likes the gift of laughter??