Writing Wrongs

April 14, 2006

Well, itís somewhat traumatic for Andrew, but I think he looks pretty good:

We went yesterday to confirm what we knew already: he needed glasses. Our first stop with prescription in hand was at the little store inside the clinic. I was thinking the prices were a bit too high, and when the sales lady kept handing Andrew the $200.00 frames to try on, I decided it was time to go. $200.00 frames for a nine-year-old boy? I. Donít. Think. So.

We hit the mall instead. He picked out the shape and color himself and this pair was by far the best (and for much, much less). Heís got a good eye, even if they do need corrective lenses.

He swings between being elated about seeing clearly again and finding neat things about glasses and abject worry over being teased. Last night, he decided his glasses were like goggles for a star cruiser pilot (complete with sound effects, too).

He was pleased the daycare director told him the glasses made him look older (sheís known him since he was a toddler, so sheís an adult he trusts). The way Andrew figured it, since heís nine and half, thatís close to ten, so really, now he looks eleven. Why do they want to grow up so fast?

And for good measure, a second photo with Kyra. Why the Cleopatra arms? I have no idea. She was up to something (which is fairly obvious from her expression).


Charity Tahmaseb wrote at 9:19 a.m.

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