Yesterday, Eamon and I visited his folks up in lovely Spring Grove, IL. His mom's computer was in need of surgery, and since it looked like an all-day affair, I came along.
While waiting for some magical computer program to do some magical thing, he joined me out on the patio, where I was flipping through a coffe-table book about bungalows. Our conversation went thusly:
Kay: Oooh! A shower door. I miss shower doors. We had a shower with a door when I was growing up.
Eamon: I hate shower doors. They make me feel trapped.
Kay: I love shower doors. They make me feel safe.
And ... scene.
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