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“Come on, Mollie, it’s not that bad. There are tons of frames to choose from!”

Pam put her arm around her daughter as they stood in the optometrist’s office, perusing the large display of glasses frames in front of them. Mollie crossed her arms and scowled. She was not pleased about having inherited her mother’s eyesight.

“This sucks,” she muttered.

“I know, sweetie, but lots of kids wear glasses. I was 10 when I first got glasses, too.”

“Hmmph.”

Jim walked over and picked up a pair of frames from the display.

“Here,” he said. “Try these on.”

“No.”

“Come on, they’re purple! You love purple.”

Mollie looked up at Jim, raised an eyebrow, and pursed her lips.

“No.”

Jim and Pam looked at each other, eyes wide.

“Angela,” they said in unison.

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