Recently, I went to an art gallery where all the paintings looked really blurry. It was a strange exhibition, I thought, given that it could confuse a lot of people into thinking they need eye care. As it turns out, I was the one with the problem. When I got to the end, I turned to my daughter and said, “Weird how all those pictures were blurry, right?” She looked at me oddly and said they were all clear as a summer’s day. When I insisted that the pictures were definitely blurry, she asked if I saw her as blurry too. The answer was yes, but I just figured it was a special effect of the gallery! Long story short, now I have to see an optometrist in the Bayside area to get a prescription for glasses.
I haven’t been allowed to ride my motorcycle for a week now, which has been super disappointing. Technically I could ride it, and I was tempted to do so in the middle of the night, but my daughter (knowing how much of a daredevil I am) locked up the motorbike. She knows me too well, that girl. So now, when I get these glasses, I’m going to look like a total dork riding around with all my mates. Tough guys on motorcycles don’t wear glasses! Unfortunately, I’m scared of contact lenses, so glasses it will have to be.
I’m worried about my youngest son, too. He might need to see a behavioural optometrist, which I have recently discovered is a thing. Yesterday, he pointed across the street and said, “Dad, look at all those birds hanging out in front of that shop.” Those “birds” were actually a bunch of hats on a stand, so I think he’ll need glasses as well. Oh well, if I’m going to be a dork with glasses, I might as well drag my son’s social status down with mine.