A few years ago when I was in the midst of moving into a new apartment, I cut my finger while slicing a tomato. It was so bad I thought I needed stitches and I didn’t have a first-aid kit easily accessible, so I called my youngest brother, who was working as a junior doctor at a nearby hospital. He came over with what he called the Rolls-Royce of Band-Aids, applied one carefully to my finger and asked me if I’d help him choose a skirt to wear to a party that night.
Helping him pick outfits is one of my favourite activities. At his request, I put on Dua Lipa (the party was in her honour) while he modelled the different options with a twirl and a hip pop. We picked one, decided on shoes and that he’d wear his shirt tucked in. As he went to leave I had to catch myself from asking if he was going to put trousers on for the bike ride to the party.
