Great non-expectations

They lied to us when they said story time was only once a week. We had to do it again today. Zenia and I went off again to Beaver Centennial Public School, were led around by the shiny happy teacher, and deposited in the library with the too-small chairs. And Zenia won the toss again on what to read. She read "Carmilla," and explained that it was about a girl vampire. I got to read one Emily Dickinson poem, the one with the first line "one need not be a chamber to be haunted."
I went to my mother's office to meet her after story time. Today the pharmacist was in the waiting room, asking my mother some questions. I settled down on a chair and waited.
"Dr. Larson, what can I do about my son? He's always sick. Now he's got an ear infection, and there's so little that can be done about it." My mother kept a straight face, and suggested some things from the home medical book that they've got at the pharmacy downstairs. Then the pharmacist said that her downstairs neighbours smoked cigars and burned incense.
"And?" my mother asked.
"Well, it must be that," the pharmacist said.
"Well," my mothe said carefully, "unless this cigar smoking person is both your child's daycare provider and lives in your child's room, there is probably another source for the infection. What about your older child?" The pharmacist excused herself suddenly and went out. My mother sighed and asked me how story time went.