Tuesday, December 02, 2008
Margaret just got her first pair of glasses. She’s in fifth grade and as soon as she got them, she proclaimed, “OMG! (she actually talks like that) I CAN SEE!”
The other day, Mr. Assassin found my first pair of glasses. That’s them above. I got mine in fourth grade. I showed them to my daughter and she pretended to vomit. Nice.
I was in fourth grade when I got these stylish babies. And while we have age in common, there isn’t much else about the experience that was similar. Oh sure, my “Granny” glasses were the peak of fashion in 1975. But I didn’t look nearly as cool in mine as Margaret does in hers.
Let’s take a little trip back in time as I explain getting my first pair of glasses to my daughter;
Me: Alright, quit with the gagging noise. I get it.
Margaret: YOU thought THESE were cool??? What was wrong with you?
Me: Um…Grandma picked them out (trying to lie convincingly in order to save face in front of a ten-year old).
Margaret: Not buying it. Grandma’s cooler than you.
Me: Anyway, I remember we drove 20 miles into the city to get tested for my prescription and pick out my frames. I believe the exam took about…oh, three hours.
Margaret: Mine was only fifteen minutes.
Me: (Ignoring her) And they brought me the entire selection to pick from. There were five different styles.
Margaret: You mean 500, at least, right?
Me: Actually, my memory might be exaggerating…
Margaret: I knew it!
Me: There were only three frames to choose from. And believe me, these were the best ones.
Margaret: (Holding them between the tips of her thumb and forefinger as if she might catch leprosy) Why are they so heavy?
Me: Because that’s 100%, non-scratchproof, non-shatter resistant glass, baby. And they didn’t have thin lenses then. That’s real steel in the frames.
Margaret: Mine have featherweight, scratchproof lenses and were ready in an hour.
Me: That’s the other thing. These took three weeks to make. And then they cost about $800.
Margaret: (Rolling her eyes) Oh yeah. You had it sooooo good back then. Face it, Mom. My glasses are awesome and yours are gross.
Me: Hey! Look! (I try to shout as she walks away) These frames were made in France! Yours were made in China! Ha!
Somehow the conversation seemed like a hollow victory. And I didn’t even get the chance to point out the really cool “L” sticker in the corner – now glued on by the passing of time. How in the hell did we see with all those damned initial stickers on the lenses anyway?
I guess in the long run, what I remember most from getting my first pair of glasses was that my boyfriend, Derek…Something, broke up with me because I was a “four-eyes.” Margaret’s boyfriend didn’t even bat an eyelash – even asked his parents when he could get glasses. At least there’s some small consolation in that.