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I have an eight-year-old son. He’s bright, full of freckles, and incredibly clever. He’s my youngest child (I affectionately refer to them as Handsome 1, 2, and 3) and as resourceful as they come. He’s always getting into mischief, quietly sneaky. My little one keeps me on my toes. (He also has a habit of not wearing pants.) Despite that, I was unprepared for our annual check-up at the pediatrician last summer.
The visit started off typically: height, weight, blood pressure, and pulse—standard stuff. The kids were doing well, sitting right at the 50th percentile for everything, just as they had since birth. Then it was time for vision checks in the hallway. This part always makes me anxious. Given my husband’s poor eyesight, we worry our children might inherit the same fate. So far, only Handsome #2 needed glasses. I held my breath as they took turns reading from the chart. Handsome #1 and my daughter passed with flying colors. But when it was Handsome #3’s turn, he struggled. Oh no, I thought. Here we go again. My heart sank a little for him. We ended up getting a referral to an eye specialist.
Once home, I thought it might ease the situation to let him browse for new glasses online. He was ecstatic! He created a list of his favorites—big frames, small frames, bright colors, and classic black ones. He even asked if he could have more than one pair. God bless him! He was taking it all in stride, and I felt proud. I shouldn’t have been surprised; he always enjoyed trying on others’ glasses. The next day, we headed to the eye doctor for his first appointment.
Handsome #2 was a bit anxious upon entering the eye clinic, but Handsome #3 was fearless and eager to begin. I filled out some paperwork while the technician asked him questions.
“Do you have trouble seeing things up close?”
“Yes.”
“How about far away?”
“Yep!”
“Does bright light bother you?”
“Uh huh. All the time.”
“How well do you do in the dark?”
“I can’t really see anything?”
Oh no, I thought. How did I not notice this before? My sweet boy had been struggling quietly. He once wore shoes two sizes too small just to avoid bothering me! I was amazed he hadn’t said a word about his vision.
The exam began with the technician showing him a book with small letters. He did okay on the first line but struggled significantly by the third. My jaw dropped! When it was time for the left eye, the results were almost identical. I found it odd to have the same vision in both eyes, but I brushed it off. She dimmed the lights and had him cover his right eye. He looked so innocent with that little spoon over his face. Surely, this would be better. The technician displayed the giant E on the screen—the kind you could see from the parking lot! He squinted and said, “P?” with uncertainty in his voice.
Sweet Jesus! I thought. Everyone can see the E! Even my husband can see the E, and he can’t see anything! This was worse than I feared. The technician switched screens, and he failed to identify even the biggest letters. It was dire. He was officially going to need glasses.
Then, he made a mistake. Like a criminal leaving a clue, he accidentally read a line perfectly. Oh.My.God. He had been faking the entire time! Here I was, on the verge of despair, and this little rascal was lying!
“One more time, one or two?”
“Two. Definitely two!”
“Excellent. Your vision is perfect. 20/20. I’ll see you again next year,” the doctor said cheerfully and gave him a fist bump.
The expression on Handsome #3’s face was one of utter devastation. It was as if I had told him our dog had died. How could the doctor see through his clever ruse? He was so disappointed that his plan had failed.
As I walked to the desk to pay what felt like the most painful co-pay ever, he sulked through the parking lot.
“Handsome #3, why did you pretend you couldn’t see if you actually could?”
“Mom! I can’t see! That doctor doesn’t know what he’s talking about!”
I gave him the look—the one that says, “I know you’re not being truthful!” He broke down, “Fine! I don’t need glasses. I just want them because they’re cool! I’ll wear Handsome #2’s old ones!”
“That won’t work, buddy.”
“Oh yeah? Then I’ll wear Dad’s. I’m getting glasses someday. I promise!”
I had just been told by a little boy with perfect vision that glasses were in his future, no matter what it took! Next week, his brother has an appointment for braces at the orthodontist. I wonder if Handsome #3 has figured out a way to make his teeth look crooked?
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In summary, my son unexpectedly attempted to fake an eye exam to obtain glasses, secretly longing for the coolness they represent. Despite his cleverness, he was ultimately caught by the eye doctor, leaving him disappointed but determined to have glasses in the future, no matter what it takes.
Keyphrase: My son tried to fake an eye exam
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