Column: Dancing with Ms. Morflo
(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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