Katie is loading up the washing machines while I stand idly by. She is, in this as in most things, supremely competent, which sounds like it wouldn't be that hard when you're just putting clothes into a machine, but she's got a particular way of doing things that is fast and elegant, and which she's thought through, and right now, I'm just keeping her company and trying to stay out of the way.
Once she's got things set up and in order, she asks me to put coins into the machines, and like a child finally given a task he knows he can accomplish, I leap into action.
Which is when I turn a little too quickly, hitting the detergent bottle with my shoulder, sending it flying, spraying blue viscous soap that seems to almost instantly cover everything.
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