I had to take Oscar for an eye test yesterday after school. He had his first test six months ago and was deemed negligibly short sighted. He was sad as he wanted glasses. After noticing him squinting at school, we took him back yesterday and his dream came true.
Glasses it is.
Bless him, he had completely forgotten the pack drill from six months ago. The optician sat him in the chair, stuck up the first chart and said: ‘Oscar. Can you read the top line of letters?’ To which he said: ‘Yes.’
Deafening silence ensued.
I had to intervene as the optician looked utterly perplexed and Oscar squinted stoically into the gloom.
Once we’d established that he had to read the letters out to her, things went swimmingly.
Until we came to pick the glasses themselves.
Unlike the olden days of hideous, iron curtain style grimness, glasses for children these days are unbearably funky. He could choose between Minions, Star Wars, patterned, plain, striped and every colour under the sun. He picked a blue pair with psychedelic squiggles down the side, and a silver pair with Storm Troopers on. He was so excited.
Then, when we went to fit them they told him that his head is just too big for children’s frames and he would have to pick from the adult ones.
He was so sad, and he was so brave and my heart just broke for him, because he was incredibly good about it when I know he just wanted to to cry a bit, because it took a big whoosh of the excitement away.
Still, he has picked some that make him look even more like his dad than ever, and a blue pair that have silver bits on that are quite smart, and I have promised I will try to find some small Star Wars stickers for the arms of his glasses, and I will do this for him, because he is my boy and even though it was only a small thing yesterday, I was so proud of him for styling it out.