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Tuesday, August 4, 2009

"Why, Scrubbie? Why?"

There's just no two ways about it. Boys - they are predictable, consistent, and damn'd right funny.

Howdy Scrublings - yer ol pal Scrub here on a fine Tuesday morning.

Boys. Gawd love 'em. Scrub's glad he had a boy. Sure - girls are fine. Lovely little creatures. Until they hit ... oh.... about age 8. But - ya see... bein' a fella... I understand fellas. I get 'em. Nothin's a surprise. And,
frankly - Scrub likes it that way.

Take, for example, the modern toilet and all that goes with it. Boys - well... they'll see the humour in - well, in - in everything. Thomas Crapper. One of the persons who may have invented the good ol flush toilet. Crapper. I mean - c'mon... if that don't give ya a chuckle.

There's also somethin about the freedom of it all. Ya know - bein able to just whip it out and make use of a tree. Probably so that our forefathers - when gruntin' and huntin' was pretty much the order of the day 24/7 - could easily let'ter rip and get back to gruntin' and huntin' quick.

And, despite the blech-ness of it all - ya know... toilet stuff... human waste... eeewwww.... we done a darn'd good job of makin the experience as good as it can be.

Fancy schmancy facilities. Raised potty seats to make goin' easy. Heck - I hear that even some folk have rooms INSIDE their igloos and shacks where they can make pee-pee!

One of them thar modern conveniences can be seen as a roll of paper. Bathroom tissue. Bum wad. Turlet paper. Whatever you like to call it - it's the same. Variations in quality and such. For example - if Scrub is unrestrained in his frugal ways - he comes home with a perfectly good product. Does the job. After all... look what yer using it for!

But, if the wife threatens Scrub with... ummm... lets say his life.... then he comes home with somethin more akin to smooth silk that has been handspun by magical elves who can only be found in the far reaches of the Himalayan mountains.

Anyway - where was I? Oh ya - boys. So... when it comes to topics such as the bathroom, washroom, Loo, privy, john, outhouse - whatever... there is always high interest.

And, the kid and his punk pals are no different.

Yesterday, for example, the wife and Scrub took the kid and Hurricane's eldest D out for a wee soujourn. A little backstory:

The wife - well, her fam has roots goin back to Pennsylvania Dutch Mennonites. Seriously. As it turns out - if one of her great great great (and so forth) grandpappies didn't think to himself: "Hmmm... lets try this Lutheran religion thing... see what it's all about" - then the wife would be wearin' her bonnett and a lovely wee frock and apron and warshin' up Scrub's workin-in-the-fields clothes by hand rather than scrapbookin and eatin sushi on a Friday night.

And, right here in Scrub's hometown is where the wife's fam decided to settle down and call home a hundred years ago. So - there's evidence of that history all around. Honest - it's pretty kewl.

Ok - back to the sojourn yesterday. So - Scrub and the wife, the kid and D - all crammed in to the go-kart and we took off to visit some history. Went to Joseph Schneider Haus in Kitchener, Ontario. Go ahead - google it. I'll wait.

Oh goodie - you're back. So - there ya go. Joseph Schneider Haus. And while there - there was just a whackload of stuff that we got to see. Life back then. Yep - little different. Well - not so different really. Kitchen. Bedrooms. Places to wash up. Yard to play in. Oh - and a Loo.

And - as we had boys with us on the visit - the lav facilities were of high interest.

See - all makin' sense now.

What was of particular interest to our young, strappin testosterones was the fact that the human biological waste disposal facility was a two seater. No kiddin. Two holes to plunk yer butts over - side by side. "Why, Scrubbie..." they asked. "Why are there two holes to plunk yer butts over side by side? Why?"

Scrub told them that back in those days - it's all family.

And then - there was a basket 'tween the holes. Filled with corn cobs.

"Why, Scrubbie..." they asked. "Why is there a basket 'tween the holes filled with corn cobs? Why?"

"Why do you think" replied Scrubbie - in his best efforts to be a role model Scrub and allow the youngsters to self-discover through analytical processing.

"Cause they might want a snack?" suggested the youngsters.

"Nope" says Scrubbie. "Try again."

"To wipe - *gulp - their butts?" giggled the youngsters.

"Correct."

Yep - and that's the thought I'll leave ya with for today.


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