poured out before bed
“Oh, good. Can I drop trow, now?”
His eyes sparkle with uncanny eagerness.
“Well, no, you don’t have to quite yet. I’ll save that bit for last.”
Mr. Jones grins and pats my hand.
“I got off those prostate anticancer hormones – you know, the ones that chemically castrate you – a few months back now. I went through puberty again at 79. Boy, now I got somethin’ to show off again – so, I don’t mind that part at all!”
He hops up onto the exam table and slaps his knees, laughing at his own healthy joke.
I can’t help but snicker as I click on my penlight and shine it into a bright, cheery set of eyes.