I’ve stared at this container of Gold Bond Body Powder for I don’t know how long. I swear, it’s made it through about six moves. I’ve never actually seen my husband use it, though it sits prominently displayed on his side of the sink like one might display a coveted Disney family photo on a desk.
There’s something oddly calming about the lack of flashy graphics and the basic font, not to mention the “been around since 1908” claim. I’m sure it has. Like, as in, this particular bottle.
Suddenly curious, I grabbed it and peered more closely at the packaging. It promised a cooling effect. Soothing. Anti-itch. It was…medicated!
That sealed the deal. Far be it for me to pass up anything medicated. I glanced in both directions, confirmed that no one was around and… dumped it down my shirt.
It felt…tingly. Sorta how you might imagine it would feel if you crushed a Peppermint Patty into a powder and, well, dumped it down your shirt.
I looked around again, just to make sure I was alone. And then I did what any normal, educated adult would do.
I tasted it.
How many years have I spent telling my kids not to put things in their mouths? And here I was, eating powder. Admittedly, I am often guilty of, “do as I say, not as I do,” parenting.
With a cooling sensation, it melted on my tongue. But not in a good way. Certainly not in a powered peppermint patty sort of way. So I think I am onto something. I’m pretty sure that if my husband could dump cool powder down his pants AND eat it, he would use it.
As would a large majority of other individuals.
Perhaps today is a three-fer with regard to new experiences. I used Gold Bond powder. Tasted it. And came up with a new, marketable product…at least in certain circles.
Each day of 2014, I’m
forcing encouraging myself to have at least one new experience (and chronicling it to keep it real). If you’re interested in why–though I can’t for the life of me imagine anyone would be that bored–check out the “about” page.