We stand in the shower, Katie washing her hair, me mostly just watching (I prefer to take my showers in the morning, but I like to keep her company when she showers at night).
I've been silent for a little while, spacing out, and, by way of explanation, I say, "I've just been trying to decide what I should write for my four-a-days." I've already decided to write about the dog who likes to make strangers fetch her ball for her.
"You should write about Sasha!" Katie says, rinsing the shampoo from her back.