Hubby and I took The Boys to the Twin Cities yesterday. After an over-night at Hubby’s sister’s house and a meeting for me and a visit to Como Park for the gentlemen, we headed home. On the drive, a phrase from my childhood snuck up on me. Shit and shinola. I didn’t have the entire phrase in my head, just a couple of words “shit” and “shinola.” I remember my dad saying those words, but I had no idea what shinola was, or even how to spell it. In my mind, I had vaguely thought of shinola as a place.
I told Hubby what I was thinking and he popped off with a whole sentence: “You don’t know shit from shinola.” That was it! Exactly what my dad used to say. Until Hubby had said it, I thought of shit from shinola as something only my dad said. Because Hubby is so worldly and knows all kinds of offbeat things, I asked him what shinola referred to. He said it was shoe polish. That was perhaps the last thing I expected him to say. Shoe polish? Really? Makes sense, I guess, except that I would have spelled it “Shine-ola.” For confirmation, I googled “shineola.” Good old Urban Dictionary didn’t have “shineola,” but is sure had “shinola,” including “shit from shinola” in the definition, along with the fact that shinola was a brand of shoe polish popular among GIs. Isn’t my Hubby smart?