Harry's having a rough day.
He threw a stick at a neighbor boy, and the boy needed a bandaid. (The boy is 14 and Harry was punished.)
Yesterday Harry used 1/3 bottle of shampoo to wash his crew-cut head - so he was relegated to a small paper cup of shampoo for today.
He got out of the shower and the soap looked like a modern art sculpture - and some of it had been jammed into the bottom of the lever for the drain stopper.
He got yet another lecture.
And what does he want to know? "Why do these things always happen to me?"