The three boisterous ladies are almost out the door of the doctor’s office when one of them stops with her hand on the door, holding it just before it closes all the way.
I can hear her out in the hall as she starts to hum in a rough voice, a tune that I almost recognize, then she sings it, “Da-da-dada-da-daaahhh..., how’s that song go..., ‘Come and knock on our doooor....’”
“That’s who you look like!” she suddenly shouts in triumph, opening the door all the way and pointing at me. “Jack Tripper!"
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