In my last post, I wrote about a dorky hat I wore in 6th grade, and its special water-carrying properties. I thought it was pretty cool that if a bunch of us were stranded at a campground, I could save the whole gang from dehydration by trekking to a lake or spring and hauling back life-restoring water in my chapeau.
Well, in the comments section, my sister had this to say:
FYI, if I’m dying of thirst in the forest, I’m trekking to the spring lake myself before I drink the water with long black hairs and green lint in it, thank you very much.
She has a point, but she described the hairs wrong. They were not that long, because I had a dork bob, and she forgot to mention “greasy.”
I was not into bathing back then.
I was aware that, unlike me, other kids had to bathe every night. That’s why I hated staying at some peoples’ houses — their mothers would make me get in the bath, too. My mom only made me bathe or shower every two weeks. Though in her defense, Mom probably couldn’t get me to do it more often than that.
At the Quaker naked hippy camp, they were into conserving water. So every cabin was entitled to one shower time slot per week. When all the other kids headed off with their towels and Wella Balsam shampoo, shouting with joy at the prospect of getting clean, I’d stay behind. I didn’t get why they were so psyched for the shower. Only one per week? That seemed excessive to me.
This no-showering policy was one thing in the summer, because we were swimming in a lake every day. But I upheld it during the school year as well.
Someone at school had told me that hair was self-cleansing. I decided to go as long as I could without washing mine and test the theory. I kept expecting to wake up one morning with my matted, grooved hair transformed into a lustrous, shiny mane.
Here’s a message to all the grease-balls out there who might also be waiting for their hair to clean itself:
Go shower.
And to the rest of you: Never drink from some dirty kid’s hat.
I want to read the story about the Quaker nudist camp..link won’t work though 🙁
Fixed it! (I think.)
Funny… I just read this post for the first time now, after reading your new post today and then clicking on ‘you might also be interested in’ (because I’m supposed to be writing and I’m procrastinating like a champ).
Why is it funny? Well, just moments ago I came out of the shower after washing my hair for the first time in 8 or 9 days. I was trying the non-washing experiment and finally decided it wasn’t worth waiting it out another 2 weeks, because I just felt gross. And now you have given me confirmation that I did the right thing – hallelujah. However, I do want to find better, more natural ways to wash and condition my hair. Seems nutty to use chemicals to strip all the natural oils out of our hair, and then use more chemicals to add moisture back in.
Wow. A little revisionist history on your part? I remember baths every night or at least every other night, if we had to skip it. But every two weeks? Come ON!!! As for the hair, that stage was sheer hell — the screams and the tantrums were too much to fight.
I distinctly remember sleeping over at Ali’s country house and being horrified that we had to take a bath. But also, I definitely tried the 2-week self-cleaning hair experiment in 6th grade. I remember you trying, but I was not into it. The blame’s not on you.
I wouldn't have sat next to you at school because I was very distressed by the kids who didn't bathe enough.
Oh, so you were one of those self-righteous, clean kids? Get off your high, hygienic horse.
That's right…and my kids get bathed at least every two days. That's how we roll. Squeaky clean (with chronic dry skin in winter, but no matter…)
I wouldn’t have sat next to you at school because I was very distressed by the kids who didn’t bathe enough.
Oh, so you were one of those self-righteous, clean kids? Get off your high, hygienic horse.
That’s right…and my kids get bathed at least every two days. That’s how we roll. Squeaky clean (with chronic dry skin in winter, but no matter…)
Guess this kinda makes me a guest blogger, huh? Sweet!
I don't even remember bathing as a kid. Do you think it's because it was so infrequent? We're already having to give Samson a bath practically every night. I was so tired this evening, I was going to skip it. But then I changed his diaper and saw all the sand in his ass…i knew the baby wipes wouldn't cut it.
I'm surprised you never had dreads. Maybe that's why the bob?
You are, you're my first guest blogger. Easier when you don't know you're doing it, right?
I thought babies all got baths every night. It's a parent's way of building in extra time before they have to be somewhere: “We might be late, because we have to give the baby his bath.” Maybe they're lying. Or maybe Samson isn't as clean as other babies. As long as you wash the sand out of his ass…
The closest I came to dreds were the gigantic knots on either side of my head, like Mickey ears that slid down. And since they couldn't be combed, they had to be lopped off. I think that explains it.
You are both nuts. You both bathed every night, when you were babies, up to when you were almost teenagers. And you loved bathtime, especially as babies and toddlers. And besides it's not being true about the lack of baths, you're giving me a bad rep.
Apparently, following in your mother's foot steps, I am preparing Archer for her blogging career, or at least cocktail party stories about how her mother hardly ever bathed her. It may run in our family. My sister admitted to infrequent bathing of her two kids, which, frankly, is gross – these kids are Oregon-hippie mud monsters. My clean city kid, however, is fine with a face and hand wash and a full on bath about every 10 days. Not that I don't suffer from pangs of guilt almost every night, but I just don't see the point in it since she's not visibly dirty or smelly. See – I still feel like I need to justify it.
Well, I'm gonna give you this one. Archer's a special case, because she's very blond. Blond people attract less dirt because they're not so hairy. Don't you find?
Funny… I just read this post for the first time now, after reading your new post today and then clicking on 'you might also be interested in' (because I'm supposed to be writing and I'm procrastinating like a champ).
Why is it funny? Well, just moments ago I came out of the shower after washing my hair for the first time in 8 or 9 days. I was trying the non-washing experiment and finally decided it wasn't worth waiting it out another 2 weeks, because I just felt gross. And now you have given me confirmation that I did the right thing – hallelujah. However, I do want to find better, more natural ways to wash and condition my hair. Seems nutty to use chemicals to strip all the natural oils out of our hair, and then use more chemicals to add moisture back in.
Ha! My sister totally went through this phase around age 11. She refused to shower or wear deodorant.
I'm the opposite. My stylist says I don't need to wash my hair every day, and it pains me to just wet it. I'm convinced I'm dirty if I don't clean the hair, too.
I think I started wearing deodorant the day my mean camp friend (I guess she was a frenemy) told me I stank. I mean, that's the job of a friend, to tell you that, but you could say it in a nicer way.
Somehow, it never occurred to me that stinking would be a consequence of not bathing.
Oh and ps, my hair can't skip a day. It's way too straight. You're lucky, you save a lot of time by not having to wash and dry it every time you shower.
Guess this kinda makes me a guest blogger, huh? Sweet!
I don’t even remember bathing as a kid. Do you think it’s because it was so infrequent? We’re already having to give Samson a bath practically every night. I was so tired this evening, I was going to skip it. But then I changed his diaper and saw all the sand in his ass…i knew the baby wipes wouldn’t cut it.
I’m surprised you never had dreads. Maybe that’s why the bob?
You are, you’re my first guest blogger. Easier when you don’t know you’re doing it, right?
I thought babies all got baths every night. It’s a parent’s way of building in extra time before they have to be somewhere: “We might be late, because we have to give the baby his bath.” Maybe they’re lying. Or maybe Samson isn’t as clean as other babies. As long as you wash the sand out of his ass…
The closest I came to dreds were the gigantic knots on either side of my head, like Mickey ears that slid down. And since they couldn’t be combed, they had to be lopped off. I think that explains it.
You are both nuts. You both bathed every night, when you were babies, up to when you were almost teenagers. And you loved bathtime, especially as babies and toddlers. And besides it’s not being true about the lack of baths, you’re giving me a bad rep.
Apparently, following in your mother’s foot steps, I am preparing Archer for her blogging career, or at least cocktail party stories about how her mother hardly ever bathed her. It may run in our family. My sister admitted to infrequent bathing of her two kids, which, frankly, is gross – these kids are Oregon-hippie mud monsters. My clean city kid, however, is fine with a face and hand wash and a full on bath about every 10 days. Not that I don’t suffer from pangs of guilt almost every night, but I just don’t see the point in it since she’s not visibly dirty or smelly. See – I still feel like I need to justify it.
Well, I’m gonna give you this one. Archer’s a special case, because she’s very blond. Blond people attract less dirt because they’re not so hairy. Don’t you find?
Ha! My sister totally went through this phase around age 11. She refused to shower or wear deodorant.
I’m the opposite. My stylist says I don’t need to wash my hair every day, and it pains me to just wet it. I’m convinced I’m dirty if I don’t clean the hair, too.
I think I started wearing deodorant the day my mean camp friend (I guess she was a frenemy) told me I stank. I mean, that’s the job of a friend, to tell you that, but you could say it in a nicer way.
Somehow, it never occurred to me that stinking would be a consequence of not bathing.
Oh and ps, my hair can’t skip a day. It’s way too straight. You’re lucky, you save a lot of time by not having to wash and dry it every time you shower.