Thursday, January 26, 2012

Four-Eyed Issues

Heathen #2 wears glasses.  And he loves his glasses - he spent over an hour choosing the frames on our last visit to the optometrist. This is the best picture of him where the glasses are visible.

He choose a style that is truly HIM.  Unlike many people's children, he's never broken his glasses.  He never comes home with them all bent up.  He's really good about taking them off for times where they could get broken. 

And then, in true-Zoo fashion, the "Luck of the Glasses" ran out this week. 

Heathen #2 called from school Monday immediately after breaking his glasses.  He was obviously upset that they were broken.  Imagining only a bent frame or a popped out lens, I told him not to worry about it.  Just put the pieces in a baggie and bring it home.  I could have them fixed.
My expectations.

Once off the bus, I was presented with "the glasses," held at the end of an outstretched arm as though they were contagious or had a foul odor.  And this is NOT what I was expecting:


The Dismembered Corpse and the Coffin


The lenses were the only thing still intact!  No bent frame for my Heathens!  That would be WAY to close to normal for this Zoo!  While this looks like the work of a child that HATES his glasses, I knew that wasn't true.  Just our typical, everyday Zoo life with the Heathens.

After my heart started to beat again after the shock of seeing "the body", I realized that Heathen #2 was watching me with the "I'm in so much trouble" look.  And I understood why.

Since he started wearing glasses, if the glasses are not on his face, I ask where they are.  Then I send him to get them.  Any time I find them laying somewhere, I call him over to get the "These Are Expensive, Take Care of Them" speech.

Apparently, he actually listened to those speeches and was now awaiting his execution.

I smiled and said, "That's why I bought the warranty that covers Heathens."  A short jaunt to the optometrist's this afternoon, $15 and the glasses are good as new and will be awaiting him when he steps off the bus.

I wonder if the optometrist will give "the body" a proper burial...


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