My father took all my pills and he is typing up a chart for me.
He has already straightened out the nightstand and moved my hairbrush and lipstick out of my reach. He explained that I don't need to brush my hair now. Then he kiddingly started to brush my hair.
He called down to my mother and ordered me two slices of toast with butter and the crusts cut off. When I protested that I like crust, he explained the crust might irritate my mouth.