Dean had Tweeted some pictures of himself bobsled racing in Austria, which apparently had some pretty good snow already, and I took the time to make a...few encouraging, if snarky, comments. I was just in the middle of teasing Dean about how cozy he looked with his male teammates hunched behind him there on the sled when I heard a loud noise–a sort of grinding, scraping reverberation–coming from the stairwell. What the hell? It stopped and, a few minutes later, restarted, this time culminating in. Then, in a few minutes, my Aunt Deb came back out, telling me, "Um, I couldn't find them either."She had a grin on her face that made me wonder if she'd seen them but, surely, if she had, she would have had a fit. Well, at least the crisis was over.She lay back down and said, "Would you do my back, Paul?" and held out the suntan lotion to me.I went over and crouched down as she turned over onto her stomach, reached back and undid her top. I began putting the lotion on, beginning low on her. More

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