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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?

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