Riya is getting glasses. I took her to the eye doctor this afternoon, and after a long and somewhat excruciating experience, the verdict is she’s far-sighted. (The movie trailer will go like this: Three tired kids. One mom. A room full of breakable objects. WILL THEY MAKE IT OUT ALIVE!?)
Our eye doctor’s practice is a partnership between two physicians. Robin’s been seeing the nice one. By the luck of the draw, my first (and therefore subsequent) appointments have been with the senior partner, who is intimidating, short-tempered, grumpy, and generally devoid of social skills. When I made Riya’s appointment, I made sure she’d see the younger guy, and I finally overcame my fear of Dr. Grumpy’s wrath to ask if my next appointment could be with Dr. Nice also (seriously, I was so cowed by this guy I was afraid to tell his assistant that I wanted to switch).
Now, see if you can spot my mistake:
When telling my mom that Riya was going in to the eye doctor, I expressed my relief that she wouldn’t be seeing Dr. Grumpy. Then Riya walked in from the hallway, where she’d heard the whole conversation.
She overheard someone call for Dr. Grumpy today on the intercom, and she said (not in her inside voice), “Good thing we don’t have to see Dr. Grumpy anymore, Mom!”
It must be a common occurrence, because Dr. Nice just sort of hushed her and smiled to himself.
Can you see my red face better with 1, or 2? Is it clearer now? Or now?
Fruit Salad 
Sounds like maybe SOMEONE needs to tell him the real deal! Tell it like it is, Riya!