How about some Numb3rs fiction?
A Numb3rs Ficlet
The Characters do not belong to me, alas.
Alan Eppes was grinning broadly as his youngest son thudded down the stairs, dripping water and smelling of soap.
Charlie stopped in the middle of toweling his hair and blinked. "What?" he demanded.
"What are you doing?" Alan asked fondly.
"Drying my hair, Dad. Why?"
"That was your fifth shower tonight, Charlie!"
"Amita's defending her thesis tomorrow," Charlie sighed.
"And you need to look professorial for her," Alan acknowledged. "I think one shower would have done the trick, though."
Charlie sighed again and Alan laughed.
Forty-five minutes later, Alan stopped outside the bathroom. "I guess I'll take my shower in the morning!" he shouted over the running water. "Seeing as how somebody is using up all the hot water!"
It was Charlie's turn to laugh, albeit quietly and only to himself.
When Amita received her doctorate tomorrow, she would no longer be his student.
And his father thought he was taking hot showers.