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Column: Dancing with Ms. Morflo

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(Here's an old one from back in the days when three teenage daughters allowed us to live here with them.)

In the process of recently making yet another attempt on the world-record shortest shower, I ran out of hot water.


I was expecting to. The Young Girls (three wolf-children sent as one of those blessing-in-disguise deals about which you hear so much about) say they never run out of hot water; that there was always hot water left when they finished.

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