Have you ever noticed that the number of bald women is far disproportionate to the number of bald men?

I don’t see many bald women, but I know lots of bald men. Maybe it’s because, as I progress through my 30s, my own hair line is receding at a far quicker rate than I’d like, causing me to have a special sensitivity to these things, but I see bald men everywhere I look. And it isn’t just my imagination. Studies show that half of all men will lose their hair by the age of 50.

Science has an explanation, of course. (Doesn’t science always?) The male body converts testosterone into dihydrotestosterone, which causes hair to turn loose and disappear. (And, I suppose, suddenly reappear in ear lobes and nostrils, but that’s unconfirmed.)

Because the female body’s testosterone levels pale in comparison to the average male body, science tells us, there is far less dihydrotestosterone, thus far less hair loss.

Blah, blah, blah.

I have an alternative theory: you women are hogging the shampoo.

Guys, I don’t know how it is at your house, but at mine, there are dozens of hair-care bottles in the shower. Have you ever knocked off a loaded bottle of shampoo onto your toe? When I’m in the shower, I’m like an octopus in a mine field. Everywhere I turn is potential disaster. There are bottles to pre-condition the hair, bottles to wash the hair, bottles to condition the hair, bottles to moisturize the hair, and et cetera.

Either the people at TreSemme have been selling you ladies a load of manure, or all that shampoo is keeping hair on your head. Because, generally speaking, us men need only one bottle: regular, old-fashioned shampoo.

And it’s a good thing, because we aren’t allowed to spend as much money on our hair as women are on theirs. And when I say “we,” I’m referring primarily to “me.” Because it may not be the same in your house, but in my house, my wife’s hair has always been more important.

I learned early in our marriage that I was not to use her shampoo. I’ve never shopped for shampoo in my life, but I know that Biolage costs more than $20 a bottle, because that’s what I was always told when I dared to use the stuff in the shower.

“Don’t use my Biolage! It costs too much!” What she might as well have been saying was, “Don’t use that high-priced shampoo on your hair; it’s just gonna fall out anyway.” Consequently, 15 years later, I’m the one with the receding hair line.

One of the first lessons of my married life was that there would be two types of shampoo in my house: Biolage for her, and Suave for me. Hers cost $25 for a 32-oz. bottle. Mine cost 69 cents a gallon. And smells like fruit.

I’m all about cheap, but as I watch commercials for Axe and American Crew, I’m reminded that I’ve never seen a Suave commercial with some good-looking woman running her fingers through a man’s hair and saying, “I love the smell of your strawberry-kiwi mane!”

Because I know my place in life, I never complained. I used the cheap stuff and doomed myself to an eventual life as a hairless senior citizen.

But there are benefits. I won’t save much money when I no longer need Suave shampoo, but at least I’ll no longer have honeybees dive-bombing my head every time I venture outdoors.