A Shower, A Shit, and A Shave

by Shirley

Let me tell you all a story about my Dad. Remember back in the "old days" when people only took a bath on Saturday night? Yes you do...think!  OK, well that was my Dad. Saturday night like clockwork at 8 he would gather his stuff to go into the bathroom. Now if you were smart you would make sure you ran down stairs and went to the bathroom first, otherwise it would be 2-3 hours before you would be able to get in there.

Dad always said he was going to have a shower, a shit and a shave...HA!HA!HA! (his laugh not mine)...but not in that particular order...HA!HA!HA! (again his laugh not mine). But there was always something I could never understand and he was never able to explain it to me...why did it take an hour to shave his face? I'm sure I have more hair on my two legs than he had on his face and 10 minute, I'm done. Was he plucking them one by one? Measuring them? Counting them? What?

Now before he took his shower he had to cut his toenails...with mum's good sewing scissors of course. Keep in mind that my parents were like oil and water...the only reason they remained together was for us kids ( I would have rather they divorced, but that could be another blog). So mum was not thrilled to learn that Dad was using her sewing scissors to cut his "filthy toenails" with. Although Dad always claimed that anything other than oil and grease was "clean dirt". I would beg to differ with that, cause dog shit on your shoe ain't too clean if you ask me...but who am I to argue with my Dad!

So where was I? Oh yes, he was about to take his bath. Now somewhere between the shaving and toenail cutting I assume the shitting took place. ijs. He would then fill the tub and get in. I know, I said he took a shower, well he did, but it was after he had a bath to "soak all the dirt off him".  Of course he would have to reheat the water 2-3 time during his bath. Mum was usually in the den watching TV but that room shared a wall with the bathroom and I could hear her from upstairs in my room, pounding on the wall and telling him to "hurry up for heaven's sake...someone else might want to use the bathroom you know!!". At this point about 1 1/2 - 2 hours had passed.

Eventually (probably after he got tired of hearing mum) you could hear the shower going and know that within 30-40 minutes he would emerge a clean, shaven and somewhat lighter man. That was his ritual almost every Saturday night. There were exceptions of course and in those instances Sunday morning would be difficult to get into the bathroom.

Do any of you remember things that your parents did or do that you would like to share? Come on now don't be shy!