Boyhood

The showers were on yet the people inside were fully dressed.

One may wonder why this observation should bother me. Well, I am Master on Duty this week, and the said people are boy students who should be making their way to class.

A quick shower is not prohibited, and school rules do not make mention on the matter of washing plates with water flowing from high up.

I was horrified for a split second but then let it be.

Let us just say that marriage does something to a man, but does not completely erase certain slips;

Socks have a way of finding their way on the pillow, lotion on the dining table and haven’t I almost used a hand towel to dry utensils?

If you do not see anything wrong with what I’ve mentioned, you must be fortunate.

Back in high school, taking a bath after every two days was a true mark of cleanliness reserved for a few good boys. It was forgivable to make it three – but a bath everyday was considered a waste.

Such was life. Why waste time looking for water and soap washing a plate when toilet paper did a quicker job – five minutes to the meal?

A boy’s world is simple; quick solutions for pressing problems. Convention is an unnecessary trouble.

There were better things to worry about, like how to keep the shirt collar clean – not the entire shirt – and the armpits less smelly.

That was long ago.

The dorms were locked and given that the ‘bathed’ plates needed to be stored, the roof gutter and some gap that pussy cat uses as her maternity wing, sufficed for the evening.

Satisfied, the boys went to class.

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