Tide Envy

I religiously use two kinds of laundry detergent. Tide Coldwater for darks . . . and there are a lot of "darks" because otherwise my heart would have to be a different color . . . and Tide "Clean Breeze" for everything else. I do not trust the cold water stuff for everything, because whites, well, I just can't wash them in cold. Warm maybe, but not cold.

I was hooked on the "Clean Breeze" scent stuff by my sister, who proclaimed it's goodness a couple of years ago in the middle of the Target. Been using it ever since.

So last weekend, in a rare Target clearance browsing sister event (as she now lives in K-Zoo and I get speeding tickets going to K-Zoo) I mentioned that the clean breeze stuff was hard to find.

"Oh, I use the purple cap stuff." in a tone like she had used it forever.
"Purple cap stuff?"
"Yeah, the frebreze lavender stuff."
"You changed Tides?"
"I don't know. I picked it up one day. It smells good."

Now just to clarify, I don't think I'm the kind of girl that goes for persnickety detergents . . . I know that deep down (or maybe not so deep down) I am that kind of girl. But I don't like to admit it. So using a specific kind of Tide because my sister said it smelled better, somehow negated the fact that I couldn't just buy regular stuff. And we won't even go into my brand loyalty problems . . . that's from my mother. If they stop making Tide? Well, I'll just have to persistently buy new clothes.

"But you told me the clean breeze stuff smelled good . . . "
"Yeah, this stuff smells better."
"So purple cap kind? Cause I only bought clean breeze because you endorsed it."
"You buy Tide because I say so?"
"Well . . . yeah."
"That's so weird. I had no idea I had so much power . . . over your laundry choices."