Author's Note: this bit was originally published in 2011, pulled when I got nervous during a job search, and has now been restored after I reread my entries and decided to get over myself. My father passed away March 16, 2016 of Alzheimer's, but that's another 1000 blog entries in and of itself.
My father has a rash. He's had it for months, and it's excruciating. Thanks to medical science, it doesn't look nearly as bad as it used to, but it still itches like crazy. If he doesn't wear gloves when he sleeps, he scratches himself bloody. So, we're looking for any solution that might help.
The latest thing is finding the least allergenic, most gentle laundry detergent out there. So far, he's been using one of those no-fragrance, no-color detergents. I love how they charge us more not to put stuff in. Isn't capitalism wonderful? So, I asked around, and a particular brand, Dreft, was recommended to me. It's used for babies, because babies have very tender skin and need the leastest allergenic, mostest gentlest laundry detergent in the entire world.
So, I picked up a box for my dad. Expensive stuff at $14. Damn. Better be good. But here's the other problem: my dad does not want to use a product made for babies. He can barely stand to acknowledge that he's officially old. Any suggestion that smacks of treating him as an old man gets shot down, post haste. Treating him like a baby would be even worse.
This is why I want ninjas. Not in person, but on the box. I want a box of the leastest allergenic, mostest gentlest laundry detergent with skulls and crossbones, ninjas, pirates, killer special ops, lumberjacks, and other manly man attributes. I want my dad to look at this box and think, "Finally! A laundry detergent that treats me as the rough and tumble man I am!", and inside is the leastest allergenic, mostest gentlest detergent ever.
Maybe I could paint the box.