Personal Hygeine Dillema

A recent visit to house/kid/pet sit at my oldest residence in Virginia was a most enjoyable time met with one significant challenge. 

Washing myself. 

Specifically, I shower. Like Lewis Grizzard said, “I don’t like to wash my face with water I’ve been sitting in.”

I require very little when it comes to washing-soap, washcloth and a towel to dry off. I’m a no frills guy. 

I quickly found myself in a situation where the key ingredient of my shower—a bar of soap-a mere sliver even—was not there. Actually, I would discover post shower that  it was on the dish by the sink, but presently I am naked, soaking wet (and afraid) and begin looking thru the assortment of showering/bathing supplements in order to find some body wash or whatever. 

By the way, this is my granddaughters shower.  

Every corner on the naked side of the curtain contained products to take care of one’s body and hair. I have an abundance of one and less of the other. I find nothing initially, so begin reading labels. Has to be something in here for a 63 year old man. 

There were a multitude of scrubs. I really don’t know what they are for other than they are for girls. 

I happen upon DANCING QUEEN shea sugar scrub. This had me laughing out loud and you know what came next. I begin humming that damn song. Miracle of miracles, I found body wash!

Of course it was coconut scented. 

So now I have decided to coconut body wash my fat ass in lieu of the dancing Queen scrub because I figured while it might work I would be willing to bet that if I used sugar shea scrub not only would it not clean me but I would be finding residue likened to beach sand. 

Regardless, I begin washing myself with Coconut infused beach water body wash and since I can’t remember the words to Dancing Queen, I make up some of my own to fit the situation. Feel free to sing along if you’d like…

“Dancing Queen, Old, not lean, and only 63…

You can wash, you can dry,

Having the shower of your life, but slip and fall, you’ll lose it all, and bust your spleen….

You Can dance, You can die—

By slipping and falling just right—ooo oooo, Senior aged, old old fool, you’re not 19….



Oh, well. As the saying goes, “BUT DID YOU DIE?”

NO, all was fine, and I spent the next 24 hours smelling like a tropical paradise. But upon my next shower I made sure to grab the soap. 



PS- Never dance in the shower.

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