The things we do to torture ourselves...

I love Sharper Image. Really. But sometimes even I have to admit that its products can be a little...bizarre.

A few weeks ago, my husband (aka: Spouse Unit Hubby Man, aka: SUHM) and I were trolling through SI's personal care section. SUHM picked up a nifty, little device and studied it.

"What the heck is this?" he asked.

I scanned the label. "Home electrolysis kit."

"You mean electrocution."

"Nooo," I said patiently. "I mean e-lec-trol-y-sis. Sis. Sisssss."

SUHM, a chemist by training and organizational safety specialist by trade, didn't get it. He held up a flat, white pad (upper lip size). The pad was tethered to something that looked like a joystick by a thin, pale wire.

"Conduction mechanism. Current source," SUHM said. "E-lec-tro-cu-tion. Zzzzap!" He poked me. "Remember that other thing you got here? The Hair Ripper?"

I shuddered. The device he mentioned was like a little, personal lawnmower for unwanted hair. Manufactures promised it would glide easily over the skin, plucking hair strand by strand, and would be no more painful than an eyebrow tweeze.

SUHM laughed. "Remember when you tried to give yourself a bikini..."

I elbowed him. Of course I remembered! Everyone in a six-mile radius of our home probably remembered. That &@#$! Hair Ripper hurt!

Behind us, a man snorted. A nearby sales clerk sighed. Clearly, the mini-home electrolysis kit was not going home with me.

Well...at least not tonight.

Playing on iTunes: Imagine Me by Kirk Franklin.