We have a master bathroom our bedroom.  Granted our home was built in the late 1960’s so this master bath is about the size of a walk in closet.  It’s basic.  Toilet, shower, sink, window.  Not grand.  Functional and spartan.  Four white walls, white vinyl floor, and lots of short black hair.  I don’t know where they originated from (use your imagination-I’m a middle aged white guy-I’ve got hair where only trolls and hobbits have hair). 

Anyway…for that reason I get the master bath to myself, as my wife and two remaining (at home) daughters claimed the larger bathroom off of the upstairs hallway.  I don’t think that it’s necessarily nicer than mine…but I’ve been asked not to use it very often (see hairy troll example earlier).  If the girls do find out that I’ve used their bathroom they act like they’re gagging.  Then they playfully retrieve my flamethrower from it’s holder in the garage and “go over” the walls, shower, sink and toilet that I’ve just used in their bathroom.  They say that they’re just “burnin’ the ‘man-stink & troll hairs” out of it  (The little tykes tease me so-I just wish that they’d refill my flamethrower when they’re finished with it.)  I try to take my shower earlier than my wife goes to bed so I won’t disturb her (as my shower is just a few feet from our bed-it has absolutely nothing to do with my singing-I swear).  Anyway, some nights (about twice a year) I get a wild hare and decide to use her bathroom for my shower instead of mine (the hare doesn’t like it either way) just to see how life is “on the other side of the hallway.”  The whole showering thing is pretty much the same deal, but the amount of selections available to me while bathing was incredible!  There were around 14 different bottles, tubes, cans and whatnot of different shampoos, conditioners, rinses, gels, exfoliates, scrubs, sponges, razors, etc…no wonder our 15 year old takes half an hour to shower, you gotta study prior to bathing just to figure out what to use and in what order to use it in!  I get by with just a bar of soap and dollar bottle of shampoo in my bathroom but they have a wide array of beautification products that require a thorough knowledge of cosmetology, and probably some special certification as well.  I worked up a sweat just reading the labels.  These extra products must work since I can’t keep my hands off of my wife, she insists that it has very little to do with the conditioner that she uses and more to do with the testosterone coursing through my veins (I’ve offered my showering services to her as a “back washer” as a gal just can’t reach the middle part of her lower back like I could, an independent contractor…but my offers are rebuffed (HA!  A pun-that doesn’t happen very often.  I’m dead serious, it doesn’t.  I’m not that smart.)  Either way, I’m good.  I’d write more but I have to grab the bottle of peppermint exfoliate from Connie’s bathroom and then moisturize with Olivella’s anti-aging moisturizing oil.  It’s a beauty must for the man who wants to look good and feel even better, or at least as “good” as a troll can look and smell.

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