"It's not a good day for eyeballs, huh?"

You could just hear the kindness in her tone, the empathy with which she uttered these words to her teary-eyed daughter, the patience in how she shared examples of recent poke-age. I'm sure my friend never planned on ever feeling the need to give a shout out to eyeballs, giving them a moment of silence, or even working them sympathetically into a conversation. But, alas, here she was, most seriously referring to them as if they had feelings and needed some well-deserved recognition. Her little girl just nodded at her words and intermittently added to the memories of when my own son got gored with a sword and when her sister poked herself in the eye while trying to move some hair out of her face. It seemed as though once she realized she was not alone in having to temporarily walk around with one eye shut, she calmed down a bit, took a deep breath, and went back outside to play, immediately seeming to forget there ever was a mishap as she gleefully hurdled herself back onto the trampoline.