She could steal but she could not rob

We sit in the bath tub. He, actually, sits in the bath tub. I sit on it. He drinks a cup of whiskey and I thumb through a magazine. I flick cold water from the sink at his steaming legs. I pour shampoo on his head and wash his hair, my fingers massaging his scalp. I threaten to cut it. I always threaten to cut it. The water drains. He is drinking whiskey and shampoo foam. He doesn’t mind at all.

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