Bathroom Priveledges

Imagine a little three bedroom house with only one bathroom. With 10 people, eight of them that need to make the school bus and beat the school bell, logistics was of great importance. My father, the great dictator and strategist that he was, came up with a plan. A schedule was posted in the hallway. Bathroom time was allotted in fifteen minute increments. I went first. Now consider how early you would have to get up in order for each child to have his promised time; very, very, early. I would go into the bathroom, splash cold water on my face and begin my toilet. Always, there would be a loud knock on the door; "I have to go to the bathroom1". " It's my turn," I would bellow but the urgency in the voice always led me to open the door and step outside. This went on in various patterns every single day, and there was overlap in the schedule, tears, jeers, and running dialogues about whose need was most urgent. According to my brothers that is why they didn't wash behind their ears, and skipped cleaning their necks. They had the dirt rings to prove it. It was such a scramble and we were more like a herd of elephants running down the stairs, buttoning our clothes, tying our shoes and gulping down our breakfast.  Now along with this was the issue our our homework. We would all be looking for where we left it, and more often then not it was stained with food or even worse. (We had a dog).
When we got out the door we had the long walk up to the top of the street. We carried lunch boxes with the Lone Ranger or Micky Mouse painted brightly on top. My neighbors child walked with me and I knew she always had a couple of chocolate fudge cookies in her lunch box. The Tom Sawyer approach was in me again. I always managed to trade some tid bit in my lunch or a shinny stone, or a secret button, for those two, delicious, cream filled, cocoa colored treats and ate it there on the spot. The root of my love of chocolate  runs deep. Our walk up the hill was as adventurous as our morning routine. There was a tenement where someone on the top floor would be playing the piano. The notes floated out their windows and down onto the street like leaves in a fall wind. Then there was the house with the bullies. I feared if they were out they would come and hit us, or curse us, or do some dastardly deed. I tried to be as invisible as possible but I was a victim on more that a few occasions. If my brother was with me I would be safe. One time I was not safe and the bully had a rope hanging next to a tree. He forced me to stand while he put a rope around me and was going to try hanging me. Fortunately an adult was looking on and saved the day. There were a lot of westerns on TV in those days and I'm sure that had something to do with his plan of action. All in all we took our challenges and fights as they came, didn't tell adults our our close calls and had a good time of it overall.