THERE'S THE RUB

Like many of my fellow men, I have the dubious pleasure to share a bathroom with a female. 

Now being of a certain age, I have my fair share of lotions and potions but let me tell you, these are as nothing compared to my dear wife's collection. Shelf space is not equally allotted as you might imagine. 

Over the years. I have discovered why my modest collection of grooming products is dwarfed by those of the female of the house. It is to do with advertising.

A new product is launched - 'guaranteed to slow down the ageing process of your skin' or 'thickens your hair in only four days' etc. etc.

My wife cannot resist such a declaration and I'm sure she isn't alone. As a result, the collection of half-used beauty products grows and grows until my few 'essentials' are crammed into a corner.

It is so complicated being female - I am very glad to be a mere male.

Now where did I put my moisturiser?

SPLISH SPLASH

I can't remember when I last had a bath. Before you go running off holding your nose and squealing 'eeeeeew' what I mean is, I prefer to shower.

I find it so refreshing and energising standing under a torrent of water. While letting the water cascade over me I like to imagine that I'm a sort of muscle-bound Tarzan figure showering under a waterfall in the rainforest.

For me, entering the shower cubicle is like Clark Kent popping into his phone box and emerging as Superman - except in my case I become Superwrinkly.

I know that some people prefer to have a soak in a bath but I never got on with bathing. I can remember as a child being forced to go and have a bath by my mother who stood outside the bathroom door to preserve my modesty but ensure that I complied. Being the little devil I was, I ran the bath and then splashed my hand around in it a few times to simulate me having the bath though I remained standing by the side of it. OK, this time you can say 'eeeeew'.

Apart from the fact that showering uses less water so is more environmental friendly, I hate the thought of wallowing in my own dirt. Also, I remember the unpleasant feeling as the water got colder and colder. The hot water was limited in those days.

I also have unpleasant memories of baths since someone dear to me tried to kill themselves by slitting their wrists in one. In fact baths are very dangerous places as Jean-Paul Marat discovered when Corday killed him in one.

So I will stick to the safety of my lovely, refreshing shower. Ooops! I just remembered 'Psycho' ... eeek!