Shane has heard my lament over the past seven years ... well, more like the past five years ... that I need new glasses. Not that I'm so stylish or anything that I need to replace my glasses, but because after seven years, lenses get scratched and yucky. And now, the world looks cleaner, however fuzzy, without glasses on than with them on.
But I've been in some state of trying to conceive or being pregnant these past seven years that I had to put the thought of an appointment on hold. But now that Erin's here, I figured it was about time to get these peepers checked.
I had made and rescheduled two appointments over the summer when our sitter canceled on us. It was a disappointment because I thought I was so close to actually getting this done. And as I continue on this journey of fuzziness, I feel that it's just like the pastor said and that we see through a veil in this life. Oh, how true.
But then as I jumped online to check e-mail today, I hear Erin's sweet voice coming around the corner saying, "Broke it. Broke it." She comes into the office holding out what she needs me to fix. And wouldn't you know, it would be my glasses. She snapped them right in half at the bridge piece over the nose.
I gasped a little too audibly, startling her. And she covered her face and cried, "Glasses! Broke it!" And I held her close and comforted her. "I love you! I forgive you!" I told her. And wondered, what will I do? I'm serving at Lanie's school all day tomorrow. I actually have to drive my car. On the road. With other drivers. And my kids aboard. I am near sighted.
I balanced the smudgy parts on my face. Maybe some scotch tape will do. Will have to do. So if you see me around, I'm not trying to make a fashion statement. Fortunately, Shane reminded me that I have prescription sunglasses. Fear not, world.