When I was a little girl anytime my dad wanted to get me to do something I didn’t want to, his argument ender was “doctor’s orders.” “Eat your vegetables, doctor’s orders.” “Time for bed, doctor’s orders.” “Clean your room, doctor’s orders.” It became kind of a running joke in the family.
“What’s he like?” she asked.
“Kevin? I really like him. He kind of reminds me of Mikey when he was 8.”
“But he’s 15.”
“Yeah, he’s 15. If you talk to him and ignore the fact that his voice sounds like a little boy’s, you know you’re talking to a young man. But if you look at him, you want to ask him if he wants an ice cream. He seems just like a well behaved little kid.”
“What do you think of his mom?”
“She’s great too. She’s had a rough year. It sounds like her husband was a great guy and losing him really threw both of them for a loop. But she is adores