Our best-laid plans were upended on Saturday morning when our long-awaited session with Daley was canceled due to eye injury: The Girlie had herself a shiner, or so we thought. We didn’t know how or where it had happened, but her swollen right eye kept us away from the camera (and even from public view, lest Mom and Dad get arrested by DCFS). But the next morning, things looked even worse, with her little eye crusted shut upon awakening, which kept her home from church, and kept her mother in constant consultation with Dr. Google, who turned her away from a diagnosis of conjunctivitis, and toward a preliminary diagnosis of preseptal cellulitis. For which we thought we’d get some antibiotics at the clinic on Monday, until we remembered that Monday was a holiday, which got us to call the on-call Doc, who suggested we drive over to the ER to join the masses huddled there on Sunday night. Two triage nurses later, we were waiting at our usual clinic, observing the over-tired Girlie bounce off of the furniture and watching the Giants and Packers locked in mortal combat, and worried to death that we would (as the second nurse suggested) be admitted for several days of IV antibiotics. But the giant and kind Doc sent us on our way after only three hours with some starter meds and a prescription for more. But what we really need is a time machine, since she already looks completely better, and Daley and his cameras are back in LA. Drat.