Yes, the countdown was finally done and dusted and C and I went to the nearby shopping mall. The optometrist was a very nice man, who examined C very closely.
Then the fun began...choosing a pair. The woman in the store showed C a pair with trains on the sides, C looked patiently as she demonstrated the pair of glasses and then shot me a look that said "She thinks I am a baby!".
C first wanted a red pair..
I managed to somehow make him choose a blue pair, but it all went wrong when the optometrist had decided they were to have a bit of a tint.. (for anyone having watched our favorite films Beck, these make your thoughts wander to Beck's collar-carrying neighbor...you know the one always offering him a "stänkare"..)
Seriously, I grew up with glasses in the 70s and I don't want my son to experience everyone *including spouse* laughing their socks off every time they see a picture of you when you were 5.. So I think the tint will have to go. We also need a second pair, and I have a feeling we have to visit every optician in our city to find this pair, before our next appointment in a months time.
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Comment of the day: C, when asked if he could see the telly clearly when watching: No, not always, because sometimes it's a bit of dirt on it.. *being the only customers and sitting in a booth draped with a curtain, I started hearing the ladies in the reception area giggling now. From there on C entertained the whole shop.*
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