THE GRATEFUL TRIP

I was going down the hall to my bedroom when Alex walked out of his bathroom holding a towel around his waist and an armload of dirty laundry.

“Great,” I said as I passed him. “You're out of the shower. I'm going in next.”

Alex stopped. “You're taking a shower now?” he looked concerned.

“Yeah, why?”

“Well, I just got out.”

“So?”

“I might have used up all the hot water.” he admitted.

“Oh, come on! How long were you in there?”

Alex tossed his dirty clothes on the floor of his room and grabbed the towel tighter around his waist. “Well, if I'd known you wanted to take a shower I wouldn't have stayed in as long as I did.”

I just shook my head as I headed to my room. “I have to go out soon, so I guess I'll be speed showering again.” I complained.

“Sorry.” Alex called down the hall after me.

I was in and out of the shower in a flash feeling like I'd just participated in a rodeo event, only instead of rope tying a cow I was shutting off the water and holding up my hand to stop the clock, screaming “TIME!”

I was dressed and ready to go out when Alex came into the kitchen. “Sorry about the shower thing.” he said. “If you'd just let me know you wanted to take one I wouldn't have been in there so long.”

“You know when I was growing up we only had two bathrooms with nine people and a very small hot water tank.” I reminded him. “My Dad used to bathe my two sisters and I together in one tub just to save water.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “I know, you've told me this story before.”

“Well, obviously it hasn't made much of an impression.” I shot back. “The house your Dad was raised in had one bathroom and five people sharing it!”

“I know, I know.”

“Does your Dad need to take you on the Grateful Trip again?”

“No.” Alex started to laugh. “I've been on that trip twice!”

When the boys were younger he'd take them around his old neighborhoods showing them the small houses he was raised in and the route he had to walk to school when he was only in kindergarten.

“Well, try to remember that the next time you're lollygagging in the shower. Our hot water isn't endless.”

Alex started to laugh, “Lollygag? Is that even a word?”

That caught me off guard. “Yes, it's a word.”

“Who says that...lollygagging?” he was still laughing.

“Obviously I do.” I leaned against the counter and tried to think about it for a moment. “Come to think of it.” I finally said. “I think I remember my Dad using that word when we were kids.”

“Well, it's a good one.” Alex began walking back to his room shaking his head. “Lollygagging.” he repeated with a chuckle.

“Hey!” I called after him. “Nice job distracting me from being mad at you for hogging all the hot water!”

“Your welcome!”