Bath Night
Now Friday night was bath night
Twas a ritual I clearly recall
Dad would take down the galvanised bath
That hung on the backyard wall
It was quickly placed by the fireside
Where we all sat cosy and snug
Each one of us awaiting our turn
There on the old peggy rug
Dad poured in pans of hot water
After which he added some cold
Then mum would test the temperature
Well at least that's what I was told
One by one mum would wash our hair
Then gave us all a jolly good bath
Whilst the smell of carbolic pervaded the air
She even had time for a laugh
When our bath time was over
All glowing, the small and the tall
Dad emptied the water from out of the tub
And hung it back on the wall
The ritual not yet over
We would sit on the old kitchen chair
Mum would take out her 'fine tooth comb'
And thoroughly comb through our hair
As I asked mum why she did this
We were all tickled to bits
For she answered with a wry smile
"Well of course I'm looking for nits!"
Very soon the combing was over
Right down to the very last head
It was not very long thereafter
We were all fast asleep in our bed