The shower has been a little sluggish about its evacuation duties lately, so when I step out and start to dry off, Joanne pokes her head into the enclosure, makes a face and says, "I think I'll just wait for that to drain."

"What?" I say. "Because of a little water?"

"It's not just water. It's your--"

"Gravy?"

"Skin goo," she says. "It's not brown enough to be gravy."

She slips out the door, off to check on the kids, and I start to brush my teeth. I look down -- tooth-brushing can be an enormously contemplative business -- and when I raise my head, she's back, peeking through the doorway.

"I just want you to note that I used the qualifier 'enough,'" she says, and disappears again.