I appreciate all that modern medicine has to offer. Our life expectancies are some 25 to 30 years longer than those of our grandparents. And those extra years are generally worthwhile. Sure, there are some horrific diseases that rob us of our memories, or bodily functions, but overall, our population lives longer, and enjoys it more, and we have advances in health care to thank for much of it.
When I was a kid, I was fascinated by my grandmother's nightly ritual of swathing her head in toilet paper, topped with a shower cap of sorts. This creation somehow protected her done-once-a-week hairdo.
I was equally horrified by my grandfather's teeth in a glass on the bathroom counter each night. (Being a one bathroom farmhouse, we all had to share and see).
As one does not ever think about how their grandparents managed to beget (in my case) eight children, I never really gave much thought to how those nightly ministrations might affect their 'alone time'. Except now I am of an age that my friends and family are aging - not over the hill, mind you, but not spring chickens, either.
I have friends that strap CPAP contraptions to their face as they get in bed. One has a bed alarm, to let her know if she gets up in the middle of the night, as she has had issues with her prescription sleep aid. Some fitness freaks wear monitors to track resting pulse rates and sleep patterns.
Not to mention all the cosmetics ministrations and garb - aloe socks and gloves, facial masks and creams, waist trainers, wraps, and do-rags.
In my house, our bedtime imposition is dental night guards, a thick piece of custom molded plastic to prevent teeth grinding. Nothing quite kills the mood like stepping into the bedroom in some wisp of fabric from Victoria's Secret, to have my husband look me up and down and tell how thexy I look. His night guard lisp is somewhere between Sylvester the Cat and a low-octave Mike Tyson. Neither one works for me, so I just pop my own night guard in and wish my husband thweet dreamths.