I used up my shampoo yesterday. I still needed to take a shower today after working in the dirty factory. When it came time to shampoo my hair I looked around at the prodigious queue of bottles. Some were flamboyantly colored. Sorry, bright orange or tangueray green don't entice me. Others had snotty French writing. I was looking for plain old shampoo. I didn't need anything for "moisturizing curls treatment." What does that even do? My wife, of Mediterranean descent and has jet black, very curly hair, might need the stuff, but I sure don't. So I start realizing, wtf, she must spend more time thinking about what to buy for her hair than she does voting. It's a good thing she listens to me on whom to vote for. I decide the big issues, like whether we should be in Iraq or what our foreign policy towards Venezuela should be. She decides the little issues like our family budget and how many jobs I need to work, two. I counted up the bottles. Nineteen. One was for the little children we have. Eighteen bottles for her. Woe! Is that overkill?