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I took Hamo and Ismail to the eye doctor last Saturday night. (YES! Saturday night. Egypt is THE epitome of a nocturnal society.) I've been putting off this particular errand for quite a while. But then Hamo poked Ismail in the eyeball two weeks ago and I had to take him in to make sure it was still functional and all. (They were wrestling.) The doctor told me to bring him back in a week for a regular vision test.
Sooooo, I did and brought Hamo with us as I've procrastinated long enough getting
his eyesight tested, too. Ismail is far-sighted...and
I-----N-----C-----R-----E-----D-----I-----B-----L------Y SLOW
at reading the friggin' eye chart. Hamo was convulsing next to me and whispering
in a NOT-SO quiet voice, "What's wrong with him? He's taking forever and the doctor is going to say there's not enough time for MY exam!" FINALLY, after 20 minutes of
pulling the up, down, left, right answers out of him, it was Hamo's turn. Took him 4
minutes to read the chart....9 for the complete exam.
Now a bit of historical baggage to pull out of my graveyard of a closet, I NEVER
understood how my mother managed to let me walk around squinting and bumping into walls until the age of 9 before getting me into an eye exam only to be fitted with
big thick bifocals. I thought until the age of 40 that my mom must have just overlooked me as a clutzy kid or was too busy with the 3 siblings behind me to notice I was blind
as a dingbat. Fast forward to last week's eye exams of my sons.
The doctor looks at me and asks, "How long exactly has Hamo complained of
headaches?" To which I sheepishly replied, "Off and on for about 3 years or so."
(The hairy eyeball is not so cool when on the receiving end.)
Then I got indignant and yelled, "HEY! Don't judge me! I have 5 kids, a husband and
a priority list that does not get rearranged daily but hourly............His eye exam has been Overtaken By Events on several occasions and then he just stopped complaining! The squeaky wheel gets the oil, Man! And frankly, he just stopped
squeaking! BESIDES...it's a family tradition!"
Ismail just laughed while I pulled Hamo out from under the chair he was hiding under in humiliation, grabbed the boys' prescriptions and left. When we got home, I sat down and wrote my mom a long overdue letter of apology. She only let me bang around until I was nine. I left Hamo to do the same until he was 13. I win the MOTY award.
By the way, they are both cute as anything with their new glasses on!