“How old do you think the Doctor is?” She asks me.
“Hmm, I never thought about it. I would say,
Young man, mid fifties”
“That’s about right then. I figured so also.”
“In the Fifties my older sister babysat for a family,
The father was a dentist.
They had a little boy named Lee.
I often wondered if that was the same family.”
“Why don’t you ask the Doctor?”
“No, I can’t” She says it, almost breathless.
“Why not? I think he is approachable.
It might bring up nice memories for him!”
“No, I can’t.” she said.
“You know, doctors only breathe doctors.”
That brings up two questions.