Things were worrisome then, and also noisy. Milo was on a rampage by the time Erika came downstairs before the sun was up. “Why the frick do you have to hang your flannel on the hot water knob?” He poured her coffee, but the gesture didn’t undo the venom.
“Good morning to you, too.” Erika mopped up the spillover before taking a sip. “What’s a flannel?”
“Your facecloth. Washcloth. I don’t want to touch a used washcloth. Put it in the hamper or throw it on the floor! Just don’t leave it on the knob!” Milo slammed the refrigerator door hard enough to displace the Olympic ring magnets.
“You’re a knob!”
“Dada…dada…Say dada.” Billy was back from cleaning the rink—he’d left even earlier than he used to—and also back to that.
“Is it because I have lady bits?”
“He used to say the same thing t
