Never trust a Ginger

Is it me or is the world gone organic mad? Don’t get me wrong, I have absolutely no problem with bleach and preservative free food. Infact, I’m quite partial to the organic fair trade chocolate sold in our University’s farmers market or my Dad’s roast organic chicken. We even grew potatoes, cabbage and onions out the back garden at one point!

But my Dad’s love for organic veg & meat seems to have transcended onto my Mother a little too much. For Rose has ‘organictized’ – if you will, our house. Particularly our bathroom.

To being with it was just the purchasing of organic hair dye…’NATURTINT’ to be exact, and that was all fine and well ‘coz it was her hair that was subjected to various ‘herbal’ ingredients. But over the last few months shes been dipping her claw into other areas of organic bathroom utilities. And I am NOT impressed. Nor are my nostrils.

After the Naturtint hair dye, came organic  shampoo & conditioner. Now the switch was done from our regular Pantene quite secretively. See, first the shampoo was replaced, but you think at the time ‘Oh we’v ran out, just using this for the time being’. But you would be wrong. Pantene ‘Medium – Thick Hair Solutions’ was never to be seen again, and ‘Faith in Nature: Jojoba‘  took leading role as hair nurturer.

It was about 3 weeks later that Pantene’s partner conditioner disappeared from the shower railing, and sure enough ‘Faith in Nature’ conditioner took its place. Faith my arse. The stench off this herbal monstrosity would kill a whale. Ingredients include seaweed, ylang ylang, orange, lemon, tea tree and of course, the culprite himself…jojoba. Jojoba is a bad bastard. He smells like what you would expect a leaking tree to produce and is the cause of more headaches to my head with none of the ‘beneficial aromatherapy oils’ – which are instructed on the label.  Faith in Nature has lied to me.

Now I can just about deal with the shampoo & condition ordeal, but Mother of God I cannot deal with the organic excuse of toothpaste that was placed on the sink not so long ago. Thick pink s*it, the stuff you would imagine that comes from the frothing mouth of a wolf that hasn’t eaten for half a century.  And who made an appearance in it only bloody jojoba himself. The toothpaste got the bin, and Colgate reinstated its position as family favourite.

Now the organic soap, handwash and hair styling gel can all stay. They all smell like ferns, but I have minimal contact with each during the day so alls okay. But the latest addition to the organic household, was a shower bodyscrub that made me sick. Like, physically puking into our organic-lemon-freshner toilet.

Now lets just say hangovers dont quite agree with Roisin’s head. Or stomach for that matter. And you would think showering after one particular bender of a night would solve all of life’s hangover problems. And you would be wrong. (lot of life lessons to learn in this blog I tell ya). There I am in the shower, shaking and quivering like a heroin victim being weaned off the stuff. I’m messing with the temperature to suit the hot flashes and reaching for the jojoba shampoo to strip my gruaig of particles of last nights Marlboro Lights &  vodka & lemon. That Coppers stamp on my hand is going nowhere fast, so I reach for the bodyscrub which will surely remove any proof that I was is in Jacks last night. I flick open the tab of the bottle, and one whiff is all it takes. Head starts to throb. Saliva is rushing into my mouth and I know within 30 seconds there will be vomit. So I’m hopping out of the shower and wrapping a towel around me faster that you can say ‘Ginseng’. Needless to say the usual chutching of the seramic King followed. As the last of the bile left my stomach & I wiped my eyes, I went over to examine the cause of my hell.

Another bastard. By the name of Ginger. Give me jojoba any day.

 

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