Joe came to find me: "Mom, there 's a strange animal on the tree. I think you need to look at it." We looked at the tree -which is too close to the house- out of the downstairs window, but the animal was not in evidence. So we went to Joe's room directly above.
I couldn't see anything. Eventually, he directed my eyes to it with very detailed directions: "Look on the right side. See the bottom branch? Look down from that. There is a bump and then the animal is below the bump".
I realized that he was looking at a piece of discolored bark. "Joe. You need to go and get your glasses, then look at this again".
"No, Mom. I'll go outside and point it out to you."
"No. It is too high. It will be easier if you get your glasses".
"I'll climb on the fence and point to it".
"No. That's dangerous..."
So after some arguing and complaining, he got his glasses and looked again. The "animal" immediately resolved into a piece of discoloured bark.
"Oh. It's a piece of bark!" And he got very angry.
"I wish everyone in this house had my eyesight!"
Being the only person in the house with good eyesight, this stung me probably more than it should have. I was hurt. And knowing I was walking away from a large teaching opportunity about sight, vision, perspective or something; instead I left the room without another word.
You can't teach angry. And you can't be impervious to everything they might say. Not all of the time, anyway.
I'm only human.
Maybe the opportunity will present itself again another time, when I am better equipped to take advantage of it.