I Really Have Turned into my Grandmother

Chad and I have this interesting rhythm in our marriage: When one of us does something that might be bothersome/style-cramping/irritating etc., the other one has the right, and in fact the obligation, to request that the behaviour in question come to an end. No such objections mean that said practise may continue indefinitely. This is how I've managed to sneak pretty much everything past my husband: I do something, like adding dried fruit to the granola bars, and don't mention it until he does. And because he's easygoing and an all-around good guy, he takes a while to mention things. It's a nice system (for me).

I think this soap looks more
like cheese. Source.

We had one such instance come up recently: Our last bar of soap was in the process of disentigrating in the soap dish. We coped with smaller and smaller pieces of soap until I finally remembered to pick some up at the store. However, at that point I was pretty much committed to using the last of the previous bar, which by this point had more or less melted itself to the soap dish, so that when washing my hands, I just ran them over the dish to get them soapy. Chad came in while I was doing this one day, and I said, "I love how this whole soap dish has turned into our bar of soap." He laughed and said "Yeah," which I took to mean "And I don't mind if we keep doing that."

Truthfully, I didn't intend to turn our soap dish into the final resting place of soap slivers, which were to be extracted from their watery grave a little at a time. It was the result of never thinking about the soap except while actually washing my hands, and when my hands are dirty is not a time when I want to go rummaging through my bathroom cabinets. So, I let it go to this point.

It happens that about the same time, I was running out of bodywash. Since I'm a fan of all things homemade and also of reusing, I thought I would just scrape the old soap out of the dish and put the scrapings into the bottle with a little bit of water to see if I could stretch my bodywash a little bit further. Fortuitously, Chad's bar of soap in the shower went to bits about this time as well, so all told I had quite a collection of soap slivers to stick into my bottle.

Now if at this point you're thinking that this story is getting a bit silly, well, I can only agree. The resulting soap is a bit thinner than my usual bodywash (big surprise, since there's so much water), so I've been using a washcloth instead of my shower puff. Otherwise, I'm still getting clean and basking in the knowledge that I saved a few pennies, and that my grandmother (all my grandmothers, if it comes to that) would be happy that I didn't throw out something that was still usable.

What's a goofy thing that you do to save a few pennies/minutes/grey hairs/whatever?