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Show Woodworth/55 "arty and "1egan would all bathe together. Ned would come in, and there would always be the same ritual. "I'm going to get dressed now, Taddy," we would say, and pick up a bar of soap. "What should I put on?" "A long sleeve shirt," he would answer, and we would all soap our arms right down to the wrists, and lather our chests. "That's not a shirt yet," Dad would say, and we would help each other soap our backs. "Make sure it's a turtle-neck," he would say, and we would lather up the bar again, and soap our necks. "What else should I wear?" we'd ask, and Dad would go through a wardrobe: Long pants, gloves, sometimes repeating himself, or telling us to put knee socks on under our pants, so that we would have to soap our shins twice. By the time we said, "Daddy, what else should I put on?" we would all three be standing in the tub, the soap suds drying and prickling our skin. Megan, and me and you, each hairless, giggling, shin-deep in soap-gray water. "Ok, time to undieyPiss," Dad would say. "What about our socks and shoes?" we would all ask at once, and Dad would say, "Yes, you need to put on your socks and shoes." So we would raise one foot at a time, supporting ourselves against the green tiles, and soap and rinse one foot, then the other. "Megan and I had just taken a bath together," she tells him. "And she had done something that pissed me off while we were in the tub. I was thinking about how satisfying it would be to haul off and hit her. But I realized that I just too old to do that any more. I couldn't think of how anything else could |