3... 2... 1... Contacts

I have had to do many things as a single father. Especially in regards to the education I have undergone when it comes to my daughter. Now being male, I tend to think I understand my son a lot better than I understand my daughter. I know that this thought is just an illusion, but I like to think I do anyway.

So the school did a routine check of my daughter's eyes and sent home a note that she needs to have her eyes checked. Well it could have been worse, it could have said she needs to have her head examined. Of course, I think I need my head examined now after just a few months at the helm of this single dad family. But back to the point.

I took my daughter to the place America goes for everything from motor oil to tooth picks and shotgun shells, Walmart. We were directed to an outside door I had never noticed before even though it was on the front of the building. I guess, since it was not one of the two main entrances, I just never noticed it. But here we were in a room in Walmart I never knew existed.

So the optometrist began to check her eyes. And she had to go further and further up the chart. Yep, it was amazing she could focus on the board at school at all. She definitely needed glasses. But she was insistent that she get contacts. That may be a problem.

My daughter has her mom's vision, but she has my eyes. Squinty. Neither of us can open our eyes very far and I know what is involved in contacts. So I suggested extended wear lenses so the amount of frustration would be kept to a minimum.

So we get her contacts and a starter pack of solution and drops. And we dutifuly go back into Walmart to the vision center for a free instruction on how to put the contacts in. This is where life takes a turn for the really frustrating.

Two hours. It took two hours for my teenage daughter to get these contacts in her eyes. She would try to hold her eyes open and as the contact came close, she would nearly spasm and blink until they would not go in. Over and over we tried. Again and again. Ad nauseum.

So finally we got the contacts in after I was finally frustrated and she had resorted to frustration and tears. It was either a growing experience for us both, or a shared bit of pain. Either fits :-)

So now she has contacts and she can see. It was worth if if my little girl can see. But oh the pain. And that does not even account for the cost. Oh the things we must do for our kids. She is worth it. But the next time she has to change those contacts, she will be on her own :-)


Copyright 2005, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)