Chapter XXXI – A SOAPMAKER’S LAMENT

I am lamenting the loss of a huge batch of soap today!

I made a large batch of my wonderfully moisturizing soap several weeks ago and put it in the evaporation box to let it cure for the six weeks that it needs.  I always check the soaps part of the way through, and when I checked this particular batch, I found the strangest thing!

Obviously a mouse (or more) had gotten in.  I only knew that because of the mouse droppings in the box.  But the soap itself looked … strange!  It looked like it had started falling apart from the inside.  Kind of like a small volcanic explosion … each bar was only partially intact, and small parts of it were falling away from each bar.  It looked like very small soap pellets, or kind of like that ice cream called dippin’ dots.  Very weird!!

So of course I dumped the whole box of soap into the trash except for two bars that had not been eaten by those villainous mice.  I disinfected the evaporating bin.  What I couldn’t figure out was why the mice liked this batch of soap.  I had other bins above and below this one with soap curing in them, and no mice had gotten into any of those.  Maybe the lid was opened a crack and allowed the mice in?

Weeks later, I needed some soap and went and grabbed one of those bars.  I began to wash my hands with it.  I discovered that this batch of soap was made with oatmeal as a soothing soap!  The mouse apparently ate the paper tag that I always put in the bins that describes it, so I didn’t remember what kind of soap this was.  And the mouse, or he and all his frat brothers, had a toga party in my soap bin, eating through the soap to get to each and every kernel and flake of oatmeal!

I wonder if their mouths felt clean, or if they were so intoxicated from burrowing through the soap to get to the oatmeal that they were burping bubbles afterwards!  I hope that they had indigestion or heart burn from it.  I see that they didn’t get into my bottle of Tums tummy pills, so, HA!  To quote Hanna-Barbera’s famous Mr. Jinks’ rhyming but ungrammatical lament, “I hate those meeces to pieces!”.

Copyright © 2012, Maura White. All rights reserved.

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