Dear Tom Selleck . . .
My biggest accomplishment today was the long, hot shower I just took. Sometimes my stories are sad, but they are always true. I love a good shower. I fantasize about the showers in Brazil. Not in a weird way, or is it?
I stayed in extra long, and it was extra hot. (*tries really hard (damn the word hard) not to giggle and insert a that's what he said last night joke) When I got out, I started thinking about my dad. (seriously, no comments from weirdos)
My dad used to take a long, hot shower almost every Friday night. Or was it Saturday? Whatever. The point is, he would stay in there for what seemed like forever when all I wanted to do was eat popcorn, drink Pepsi, and watch TV with him. Maybe work on the TV Guide Crossword at commercials and plan the rest of our weekend according to the television viewing grid.
But when he came out . . .
Mmmmmmm . . . I can almost smell him.
Dial Soap. Head and Shoulders Shampoo. Barbasol Shave Cream. British Sterling After Shave. My Dad.
Many times after he showered, I would go right into the hot, damp, steamy bathroom and stay there until he called for me the popcorn was ready and whatever show we were watching was about to come on.
Every once in a while I really do smell him. It always takes my breath away. Rather than a time machine, I'd like a warm, steamy room to sit in that always smells like my dad.
Edie B. Kuhl