I'm a thief.

     Yep. You read that right. I admit my sin, but I have absolutely no intention of repenting. I mean, I'm sorry, but not sorry enough to stop. I've stolen from countless friends and family members for years and years. It always starts the same. A trip to the bathroom, an open medicine cabinet, a shower curtain pulled back juuuuust enough...and I'm yanked into a world of scandalous debauchhery. 

     I really have no control! It isn't my fault. I have an addiction not just to the stealing, but to the SINGLE article in question. What could be so alluring, so sensual, so tempting? I'm ashamed to say that for at least the past ten years, I've been taking hair conditioner from any poor soul who dared leave it for me to find. (Insert sincere emotionally dejected face here). 

     I'm sorry if you've been a victim of my thievery. You probably wondered why you're Vidal Sassoon bottle felt lighter than you'd remembered. You may have question the last time you'd purchased your beloved Cantu Shea butter or Ms. Jessie's butter cream. You might have even found yourself questioning how your brand new bottle of Last Call hair Rescue magically opened itself after you brought it home. I'm not saying it was me. I'm just saying that my hair sucks up moisture like Karrine Steffans.  It is what it is. I try to only take just enough but as you probably know, I have enough hair for 4 people. 

     I'd like to repay you the cost of the pilfaged goods but you should also know that that's never going to happen and that the odds are greater that I'll steal your precious hair creme again if given the chance. Maybe you thought this letter was going to be one of redemption, repentance or restitution. I'm afraid it isn't. I just thought it was unfair to keep you thinking that you were insane. Hide your conditioner. You're welcome.