Greetings, my fellow port swillers!

Ol’ Robbo is, if nothing else, a creature almost slavishly bound to habit, something readily apparent to anyone of more than minimal acquaintance with me, much less anyone who interacts with me over an extended period of time.

One of my practices, upon my weekday arrival home at Port Swiller Manor somewhere in the seven o’clock neighborhood, is to jump in the shower in order to wash away the day’s accumulated grit and grime.  Indeed, I often think of the hobbits’ bath song from Tolkien’s Fellowship of the Ring:

Sing hey! for the bath at close of day
that washes the weary mud away!
A loon is he that will not sing:
O! Water Hot is a noble thing! 
O! Sweet is the sound of falling rain,
and the brook that leaps from hill to plain;
but better than rain or rippling streams
is Water Hot that smokes and steams.
O! Water cold we may pour at need
down a thirsty throat and be glad indeed;
but better is Beer if drink we lack,
and Water Hot poured down the back.
O! Water is fair that leaps on high
in a fountain white beneath the sky;
but never did fountain sound so sweet
as splashing Hot Water with my feet!

A noble thing, indeed.  I may mention that, owing to the after-effects of yesterday’s wintry storm, all teh gels and Mrs. R had the day off today.  I may also mention that they are all aware of my evening ablutionary practice.

So imagine my….surprise when, upon returning home this evening, I discovered that teh youngest gel, who had all day to clean herself up, had chosen that very same moment to shower, thereby hogging all the hot water to herself.

My reaction, which involved a peremptory ejection of said gel from her shower coupled with some fairly fruity language arguably was, perhaps, less than charitable.  But I hope that, given teh circumstances, it was at least understandable.

 
 
 
 
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