Who knew that 2014 would be the year of beauty for Dad or Alive.
For 38 years, I’ve fought back the suggestions that I ‘might like or enjoy’ a manicure or pedicure. I launched verbal tirades against the peanut gallery (my mom, girlfriends, friends, doctors, dermatologists) that tried to convince me that ‘lotion is good for your skin’. Who were these nitwits? What made them experts on my nails and epidermis?
For some reason, this year, it’s all caught up with me. I’ve got gray hair, crow’s feet, chewed up cuticles and hang-nails and my skin gets so dry in the winter months that I feel like a snake moulting it’s skin, slithering through the mall like a monster that just emerged from the depths of the blue lagoon.
Rewind the clock to Father’s Day, 2014.
My wife told me that she had a ‘special surprise’ for me. Since my mind was born in the gutter, I happily jumped into the passenger seat of her vehicle after being lured by her siren song. She could’ve been driving a van with ‘FREE CANDY’ spray-painted on the side, her pretty smile was convincing enough.
After realizing that we weren’t going ‘parking’ at Inspiration Point, but instead was being dragged into the nail salon by my hair, I finally succumbed.
Why did I fight back on this so hard? What kind of idiot chooses machismo over common sense?
The same guy that ABSOLUTELY LOVED having some lady rub my old ankles and treat my toes like they were precious fossils on an archaeological dig. I even started using organic moisturizers on my face, arms, legs and trunk.
I feel like my old friend, Adam Sandler, singing ‘I Feel Pretty’ from West Side Story in Anger Management. I’m dancing through the streets with soft skin and buffed-out nails.
So last week, when frank body, Life of Dad and A Geek Daddy came at me with a few packs of frank coffee scrub, I threw bravado to the wind. I got naked, jumped in the shower and began smearing what appeared to be coffee grounds all over my body. Perhaps I sound like a madman, like my three kids under five have finally broken me down to a twitchy, psychotic mess…
…BUT ALAS, it’s not true. It was the ORIGINAL frank blend.
frank body is for babes, like me. I’m not afraid to tell you that I consider myself a babe – and you can laugh all you want. Babes come in all shapes and sizes.
Even my wife was taken aback by the fact that I was using the scrub and almost sounded like I knew what I was talking about when I told her that this scrub was vegan and filled with roasted robusta coffee and natural oils that left me feeling smooth, fragrant and revitalized.
I even convinced my daughter to have some fun smearing the COCONUT & GRAPESEED blend on my face and hers!
My wife took a spin as well and I annoyed her by trying to explain how to use it. Turns out she’s been using scrubs for decades. I also wanted to include a picture of her in the shower, but she has a strict policy about what I share on the internet…sort of.
This wasn’t a once and done gig for me. I’ve used this scrub like eight times in the last two weeks. Because WHO DOESN’T want to twirl through the parking lot of their kids school to pick them up singing ‘I Feel Pretty’?
Even though this scrub is made in Melbourne, Australia, they can get it to you RIGHT QUICK (with free shipping to the U.S.) – and might I suggest, that this is a great gift for the holidays for moms and dads – simple packaging, incredible ingredients, VEGAN and as an added plus, they have some seriously sexy babes (men and women) strewn out all over their site.
So. Since A Geek Daddy wanted to call me out on his blog, maybe I should pay it forward.
Maybe Trey Burley over at Daddy Mojo needs me to throw a clump of frank body scrub his way. Maybe he’ll also be able to entice his family to get dirty, to get clean. I’m guessing that Trey also has a ‘no nudity’ clause hanging over his blog, too.
Guess we’ll have to see.