Acceding to my wife’s demands
First of all, I’d like to give myself a great big pat on the back for spelling “acceding” correctly on the first try. I have it on good authority that if there’s a gene responsible for good spelling, the Kauffman family doesn’t have it.
So what is this demand and why am I acceding to it? You wouldn’t know it from this site, but my wife has a lot to say about what I write. I tell her she should post comments, and she tells me she’s not going to communicate with me through no stinking blog. Sheesh!
Lately, my wife – critic extraordinaire – has been on me for something without political flavor. I asked her why, and she says she hears me talk about it all the time, she doesn’t need to read it too. Fair enough. Although it’s not my primary goal with this thing, I suppose I can throw an entertaining bone (forgive me for my presumptuousness) to someone who makes up a large percentage of my regular readership.
Yesterday Cheryl took our eldest for an overdue eye exam (I may not be able to spell, but I have no need for regular pilgrimages to the local lens-crafter – HA! TAKE THAT!). Any hoo, Cheryl and Beth both got the windows to their soul properly measured and analyzed, and Beth was distressed to learn that her eyes were once again a little worse. The lenscrafter tried to explain to her that it was normal for folks’ eyesight to get a little worse over time, and that her eyes were following the typical pattern. Beth (who does have the Kauffman gene for anxiety) was having none of it. As is Beth’s way, she laid her own brand of shock an awe on the lenscrafter, in the form of a saturation bombing of questions. “Why are my eyes getting worse?” “Will they always get worse?” “How bad will they get?” “Will I go blind?” “How long do I have before I need to wear glasses all the time?” “Will I be able to were contacts?” “Do they hurt?”
The Lenscrafter showed exemplary patience, but with Beth there’s always a question that breaks down the barriers of sanity. On this day, it came shortly after Beth shared her fear that she would not be able to fly into space if her eyesight got too bad.
“If I get Lasik will I still be able to be an astronaut?”
“Honey, they don’t do Lasik on children. You can worry about that when you’re an adult.”
This person obviously doesn’t know Beth.
Cheryl is my wife and she approved this message.