(That’s not a typo – it is how Gary pronounces “wash.”)
I really try to avoid Morning Gary, because I hate him so. Imagine Sickly Gary, but well-rested and feisty. Sometimes, though, I can’t avoid him, and I have to talk to Gary before he leaves for work.
The other day we had this exchange:
“Gary … where are you?”
“In the shower.”
“Well, I have a meeting in forty-five minutes, so I’ve got to take over the shower.”
“No!” (Morning Gary. He’s such a bastard sometimes.)
“Well, hurry up then.”
(Fifteen minutes later)
“GARY! Get out of the shower! Get out or I’m coming in there with you.”
(While this might sound inviting to some men, Morning Gary is, I reiterate, a bastard.)
“No!”
“You have been in there half an hour. What are you doing?”
(Don’t think that. Morning Gary is equally a bastard to himself. He was not scrubbing anything hard in the shower.)
“Well at least I clean myself off in the shower. You just wipe the soap on your armpits and you’re done.”
Now, this is an outrageous lie from the Mouth of Morning Gary. There was a scene in the Clifton Webb / Myrna Loy version of Cheaper By the Dozen, in which the father, an efficiency expert, shows his theory of “motion efficiency” and how it can be implemented in the shower. His kids could wash their whole bodies in one fluid motion in about a minute. I take about three minutes, since I weigh approximately three children.
I go: pits, shoulders, underboobs, belly, crotch, thighs. My calves don’t sweat; I’m not washing them. My feet are swishing in soapy water for three minutes, then I put them on a towel. Everything rinses because I’m under running water. Well, except for the underboobs, they’ve been a challenge to rinse lately. They require one hand to lift and an extra upward hand splash.
Whereas Gary takes half an hour in the shower, because he doesn’t believe in the motion efficiency theory, but the theory that you can kill bacteria with friction. Friction and hot water, and sometimes there isn’t enough hot water. One thing Gary did teach me was the American Spread Bidet posture, so I wash there too.
I am reminded of the story told about William Blake, the Artist / Poet and his wife (let’s call her Cathy). A visitor noticed they didn’t seem to have any soap for washing up before dinner, and Cathy drew herself up and snapped haughtily, “Mr. Blake’s skin don’t dirt.”
So I ask you, how much redundancy is there in your shower? Do you scrub at your calves? Why? Do your calves dirt? Really? My calves don’t dirt.
My underboobs dirt, somehow. I don’t know why.
21 responses to “In Which We Warsh”
Wash hair first x2, then apply cream rinse, the wash right arm and pit, under right boob, under left boob, left arm and pit, belly, abdominal fold, (aka dunlap) crotch then butt.I do some loofa work them rinse. My boobs are huge so I lift them and rinse with hand held sprayer, the pits get the same treatment, and the dunlap and crotch get a healthy spray, and finally the butt. I do not scrub my calves or my feet, because as you point out, they get a good soaking in soap and rinse water. This takes about 5 minutes. No redundancy noted.
Hmm, I deduce you are left-handed, Zayrina. For me it’s left arm, pit, chestal area, right arm, pit, neck and back, bipsy and bum – speaking of which, being an anal type, I also do legs and feet – but it also only takes 5 minutes. Which would be very economical with hot water if only I didn’t then go into a trance for a further 15 minutes while all my expensive moisturising shower foam rinses off and runs down the drain.
Zayrina – are you kidding me? No redundancy? Class, can you tell Zayrina where her redundancy is? Class? Class? Fine then – you really lather, rinse and REPEAT?
Big Dot – It’s four in the afternoon? Are you having tea?
No, it’s nearly 6pm now (I notice you’ve been posting later recently) – I’ve had the cup of tea and am now about to have the other tea, which is the evening meal. Or would, if I hadn’t eaten a macadamia caramel slice with the cup of tea which I knew would make me feel sick but I ate it anyway. Friday night it’s every man for himself round here.
I hear Upward Hand Splash tried really hard to crack the U.S. market, but in the end they ended up only being really successful in the UK, Australia, and Japan.
I have yet to find a notepad that will stay dry in the shower, so no clue.Seriously, I’m too busy trying to solve the world’s (my) problems to even notice.I’m pretty sure soap is involved since I have to keep replacing it every so often.
Dot: Actually I just showered and realize that I wrote that in the wrong order. I am in fact right handed and realize I start by washing the left side. The rest is essentially correct.Queenie: Indeed I do wash rinse and repeat, but in my defense, I have a very thick head of hair. It would only be redundant if I were to wash rinse repeat and repeat. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
Catherine, I reckon Upward Hand Splash sounds more like an Olympic diving event.
my underboobs dirt tooi used to wash rinse and repeat with my hair too, till my stylist corrected me. . . my looks more clean when i only wash it onceimagine that`
I have the same attitude toward legs! Jay used to literally, really, I timed it!, take 20 minutes in the shower, mostly just turning round and round in place with his eyes closed while the water ran over him. Never understood it. But it didn’t bother me, because I was lying in a bubblebath for those 20 minutes.
Depending on what I need to do, most of my showers are a more thorough version of PTA (pits, tits, ass–ass includes crotch, of course).This might sound crazy, but nearly 5 years ago I went to a comedy club in La Jolla and the comedian performing changed the way I showered. He talked about how he got ready for dates, and one of the things he did was to let the soap ‘marinade’ on his crotch and ass for at least 2 minutes, and I thought to myself “Now that’s just brilliant!” So when I get to my ass, I soap it up real good then let it ‘marinade’ while I tend to either washing my face and shaving my pits and/or legs. I then rinse, wash my hair and make sure to resoap and ‘marinade’ a second time while I apply and rinse my conditioner.If I don’t feel like shaving, I take about 10 minutes. With shaving it becomes 20.
My calves are to poducers of much dead skin and cannot be ignore or I flake. That really sounds like too much information
Wow! I feel like I know you all so well now! It’s all got to come down to about the same protocol, unless you have an extra limb or something. I take too long, but I blame it on the four years that I lived off the grid. No electricity, no running water, no phone! So, I do be loving me some hot shower now.
I have a basic shower routine that has several variations – I’m a complicated women! Normally I wash hair, rinse, apply conditioner, wash pits, underboob, belly, crotch, ass, face(using special face soap) then rinse everything. But I only wash my hair every other day – it makes my hair less oily – so I skip right to pits on those days. Then, if I’ve worked out really hard the night before, I wash add arms before pits and back after belly because I sweat when I have a hard workout. I can’t convince my boyfriend that soaping your whole body and standing for 15 to 25 minutes under really hot water might contribute to dry skin. When we shower together, I’m always in last and done first. So now he hogs the water so I can’t rinse off until he’s done. I think it makes him feel less high maintenance that way and I don’t complain to him because it’s probably good for my hair to have more conditioner marination!
First roomie used to take a minimum 45 minute shower every day. It was true that she had gorgeous long hair, but it wasn’t that thick. Later I began to think perhaps she was dealing with bulimia-related issues. I have never known anyone quite so concerned with her colon. (“Colon cleansing” tea, herbal mysteries, etc in the kitchen cabinet where the tea and coffee live.) She was a strange girl.Me, if it takes more than five minutes it’s because I’m washing my hair. Ugh.
20 minutes is my MAX shower time, which includes shaving legs and washing my hair (which is waist long and sucks up water).20 minutes is The Husband’s MINIMUM shower time, because he likes to play in the water. Although I do miss the big shower in my old house, in the new place he has his own bathroom, so I don’t have to flush the toilet to chase him out.
I must have read this 30 seconds after you posted it because I was starting to panic that you haven’t been online in like 24+ hours and then I realized that a) I am a freak and b) it was just posted yesterday. and did I mention I’m a freak?Also, I don’t have underboobs. This is what happens when the boobs are so small they can’t sag. I suppose every cloud has a silver lining, eh?
Big Dot – So, I hope I’m not freaking you out now that I haven’t been there for tea for days.Catherine – On the other hand, The Underboobs never made it in Japan, for reasons Katie mentioned below.#0.75 (see, you’ve been upgraded, because you aren’t half my size) – You seem very clean, though.Zayrina – Ya’ll are talking to each other. that kills me.Big Dot – Y’all should get a room, really.Keri – Ask your stylist why my hair gets curlier when I wet it when it’s dirty. That’s so weird.Silk – okay, if I thing of it as Gary’s bubblebath thats more tolerable.Faythe – I think Mythbusters should take on the crotch marinade theory.Jo – TMI? No such thing. My calves flake like mad, but I think they would flake even more without the oils from my skin. And don’t talk to me about moisturizer, you Lush people. It creeps me out.Judith – Off the grid! Were you on the lam? And, I think some husbands should be asked how long it takes to wash their extra limbs.AmyinStl – There was a time that Gary and I got stuck in the shower because of our combined girth. We only got out because there was soap for lubrication.Becs – Oh, listen to you all complaining about the thick luxurious hair. Sigh. I have baby hair. Talk about silver linings.Sherri – I “play in the water” a nice way to say “tugging one off in the shower?”Katie – no, it’s been days. I am neglecting everything, not just the blog. I somehow threw my neck out.
Highness — “play in the water” — nope, no secret meanings or other interpretations. For years we had a peoplequarium (a glass shower stall that, for reasons mysterious, did NOT get the fogged glass put in, but was clear) so all was in view. He just sort of stood there in the water, and turned, like he was on a spit, very slowly. Maybe he was steaming. Then, in the last 4 minutes, there was a flurry of soaping and scrubbing and rinsing. Flushing the toilet hurried this process along.
Sherri – snort! That description was better than tugging one off.