I went to the eye doctor. I need new glasses. Just another sign that I am rapidly exiting out of my 30's.
I don't like going to the eye doctor. It's not that I dislike him personally, it's the whole experience in general. You go through all of that eye poking, eye dropping, dilation crap only to find out that this year your eyeballs are more like Mr. Magoo's than they were last year.
Do you want to know the part of the eye exam that is the most torturous for me?
I HATE it when they stick your head into that contraption (you know the one) and they blow those damn puffs of air into your eyeballs. Ooooh, I hate that. I can't do it. It literally takes them three or four tries in each eye before they can measure whatever the hell they are trying to measure...and the whole time, I giggle....I giggle nervously as they impatiently try to hold my eyes open and my head in place. Then, when it's finally over, I tell them, " Blame my sister. She traumatized me as a kid." Let me explain.
My sister, Natty, is ten years older than me. When I was four-ish and she was fourteen-ish, her main chore was being responsible for me. My mother, being a single parent, had a lot on her plate, so she delegated Natty as my sort of nanny.
To me, Natty was just my big sister. I want to be like her, hang out with her, and follow her around. Natty wasn't overly excited to have me around all of the time and she made that very clear (thanks for all of those pinches, Natty). She wanted to ditch me so she could hang around with her best friend, Vivian, who lived next door. That's where my all of my eyeball trauma comes in.
Before Natty was allowed by my mother to go to Vivian's house, she had to tuck me into bed and make sure I was asleep (I went to bed early). She would have me climb into bed, cover me with the blankets, and menacingly say, "NOW GO TO SLEEP!" And she meant it. I had better be snoring in 10 seconds or less if I knew what was good for me.
Picture it....there I am....a four year old lying in bed, not tired in the least, pretending to be asleep to escape the wrath of my beastly sister. And do you want to guess what she did to me if I dared open my eyes for just a freakin second? Yep. You guessed it. She blew into my eyes....and I don't mean dainty little puffs of air either....I'm talking hurricane force winds! OK, OK, so I'm exaggerating a little.....But, let's just say that I am lucky that my tear ducts still function (thank you, big sister).
Well, that's my "very true" story for today. I hope you all have a nice weekend!
Oh, and feel free to share your "evil" sibling stories with me (not you, Natty) by leaving me a comment or sending me an e-mail. Trust me....It feels good to "bust" your family in cyberspace!