Cleaning out the Caboodle

I woke two weeks ago with this realization: I need a change in my life. 
My first tattoo? 
NO. I prefer my ink on expensive paper. 
Back to my crazy college hair cut?

NO. It was semi-OK at 22. 

At 32 it's called Mom-Hair. 

You and I both know I don't have time for a straightener and pomade. 

So we're clear - this is a dated sorority photo and has been cropped. 

I was definitely wearing a shirt. 

Instead, I decided to rid my life of the excess baggage that lives within the confines of our home. 

Yep. Time to clean out the Caboodle. 

I have tried a lot of beauty products over the years. Much of the arsenal I've built over time stems from my years as a little sister, five years younger than Laura. If she tried it, I tried it after she went to bed. Then when she moved to IU, I bought my own - whether it broke out my face, or not. We all want what we can't have  - - - and I always wanted to be 5 years older. 

As a mother and wife, I'm embarrassed to report that 80% of our bathroom storage is full of products I don't use but I can't throw away. 

So when I recently woke with this strange urge to toss, I ran with the feeling. 

Here is what I found:

The "ALL SKIN TYPES" banner is ludicrous. It barely worked when I was 15. At 32: disaster. I used this tub of St. Ives Apricot Scrub two Sundays ago and Caroline still won't quit licking my face. Which is weird because she refuses to eat Gerber peaches. I guess if I add some sand to it she will be all-in? OMG. We're raising the girl that eats glue in kindergarten. 

I found three different Herbal Essence bottles. Two have since separated contents, the third wants to but she hasn't found the right Gwen Stefani song to solidify her decision. In an effort to make room in our bathroom, I poured all three into the bottle with the best top - you know, the one with the cap still attached - and created my own 1997 Shampoo/Conditioner-in-One. It smells like moldy clover and vinegar and makes my scalp tingle. Should I patent  this?

I found more lip products than I care to write about. Apparently I thought it appropriate to spend a small fortune on  Mary Kay Satin Lips. Today I spend $3.00 every five years on a 4-pound tub of Vaseline and call it done. But don't you worry. I found three LipSmackers that are already in my computer bag. Only two of them have melted into the cap.

I'm hanging on lemon Sun-In that is so old it would probably be better suited as Drain-o than it would hair product, at this point. But there is 2/3 of a bottle left and I hate to just pour it down the drain. 

Exclamation wasn't great in 1994 and is 3493 times worse in 2017. I spritzed this in the barn cats' water and walked back to the house with my fingers crossed. Stay tuned. Never know. 

I've hated both cucumbers and watermelons since 2001 and it wasn't until I cleaned out this bathroom storage that I realized why. I slathered my body in this green balm for 4-ish years. I can smell it from across the house as I type this. 

I'm gagging. 

I can't. 

I trashed it. 
25% full. 
Please don't tell my mom. 

Even with these products consolidated or tossed, I got ready for work this morning and realized I still have a long way to go. While trying to find a particular shade of lipstick that was part of the Clinique free gift in 2002, I ran across three open jars of Noxema. 

I then ran to the kitchen and laid out a rubber spatula for my after work project.

Waste not, want not.