When you think of England (and the English), there are certain stereotypes you could be forgiven for. There are also some I’d like to see disappear forever – bad teeth? Come ON, my compatriots – get ’em sorted!) but one I cannot deny is a certain cultural reticence around certain subjects. Such as the human body.
Blame the Victorians, if you will, and their determination that the exposure of anything above the ankle posed a severe risk of inducing impropriety. Somehow their ideas stuck, and in spite of the swinging Sixties, there is still a remainder of that archaic attitude alive and well in many of the natives.
That said, take your meek and genteel Englishwoman and stick her slap-bang next to one of those brash Americans, and what do you really expect?
Someone’s delicate sensitivities are going to take a trouncing.
I’ll give you a clue – it’s not the American’s.
Considerings 
Bathtubs are one thing and nekkid is another, but NO NO NO the potty is sacred – no spouses there, please. Somehow, though, Zilla manages to waltz right in when I’m in the “library” as we call it here. If someone tried to get in the room while the Hub was doing his “library” business, the man would positively flip shit.
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Because there’s just the two of us here, we rarely lock the door. I think I locked him out for several weeks afterwards, just to make my point, and so I could feel SAFE!
The library? *grins* Brilliant.
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Yup, library. My Dad’s term for it, probably for obvious reasons.
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Y’all keep books in there?
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Haha – no. But some people do. My Grandparents, for example, had a basket with Time magazines. My Dad had a Bible (don’t laugh – OK go ahead) and a copy of Our Daily Bread devotional in there. Guess it was about the right length. I dunno. Never really asked him. He also took the paper to do the word puzzles. I come from a long line of word puzzles people on both sides.
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My mum does crosswords so that she keeps her brain active and doesn’t get Alzheimer’s.
I grew up in a house with books in the bathroom. It’s the ‘norm’.
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That’s why my Mom does them, too! It’s her anti-Alzheimer’s strategy. 😀
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I feel as though I should start…
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My dad calls it the private office.
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That’s neat. Mine sometimes calls it the Throne Room…
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As a shamelessly cliche-buying American, I just LOVE the idea of the stereotypical English woman, haha..
Anyhoo, I stumbled upon your blog through a fellow blogger and thought I would just stop by and say hi! It would totally make my day if you did the same – or better yet! Keep in touch! ❤ – http://www.domesticgeekgirl.com
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Heheheh who did you find me through?
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I wish there was a way to add my picture here… *giggles softly in the suds*
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Good post, my friend 🙂
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All right, I’ll bite *clicks link*
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I’m pretty modest, too. But there have been times. The phone rings, wearing just your knickers – what do you do? You have to answer it. I never flush if I am talking on the phone in that particular room. I was raised by my English mom. I won’t tell, if you don’t tell.
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I was once in the bathroom, and Husby came in and handed me the phone…I tellya, as soon as I was out of there, he found himself looking at the wrong end of an incredibly forceful conniption fit!
Your secret’s safe with me *decides never to call Val, just in case 😉 *
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Ahhhhhhhhhhhh. Eeeeeeeeeeeeee
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*snickers*
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Shurrup! *grinning her head off*
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