She wants you to do a better job washing your ass and taint.
Lather it up and work it in there real good.
When you talk that way it reminds me of our time in Paris. Springtime, 1990, before the war.
No, that's not it. Another false memory.
It was a cheap Quebecouis Bath house, (the kind where you drop a quarter and you
don't pick it up even if it is a US quarter) and you were the featured towel boy.