The eyes (DON'T) have it
It looks like bad genes have finally caught up with my youngest son Sam. We picked up his eyeglasses last night. For some reason, I was ready to believe he would be spared the curse of nearsightedness that runs like a raging river through both sides of the family. But he started to squint and claimed not to see what was written on the blackboard. So we had him checked out.
He's not blind as a bat, but almost precisely as differently lensed as his mother. All of us see life in soft focus without our glasses now.
On the way home, Sam said he was prepared if somebody called him "four eyes.''
"I'll just call them two-eyes,'' Sam said, already savoring the effect his razor-sharp retort would have on the miscreant.
"Sam,'' I said, "that's not exactly real funny,'' and I wondered when the genetically viable Riley wit was going to kick in. Sam called his brother Chris at college. Chris told him to say, "That's right. I'm a four eyes who can kick your butt.'' Chris is usually better than that. But its finals time and it was cold and he was tired.
My wife Sue doesn't think Sam will need any comeback. His classmates will think it's cool. I don't know about that, I said. I got kidded pretty hard when I first started wearing glasses.
"Yeah, but you were a different kind of kid: chubby, bookish and half a dweeb,'' Sue said.
''Sam's a lot more self-assured than you were.''
That's why I think some genetic traits skip a generation and some are just on a time-release basis. Sam got his chutzpah early.
He's not blind as a bat, but almost precisely as differently lensed as his mother. All of us see life in soft focus without our glasses now.
On the way home, Sam said he was prepared if somebody called him "four eyes.''
"I'll just call them two-eyes,'' Sam said, already savoring the effect his razor-sharp retort would have on the miscreant.
"Sam,'' I said, "that's not exactly real funny,'' and I wondered when the genetically viable Riley wit was going to kick in. Sam called his brother Chris at college. Chris told him to say, "That's right. I'm a four eyes who can kick your butt.'' Chris is usually better than that. But its finals time and it was cold and he was tired.
My wife Sue doesn't think Sam will need any comeback. His classmates will think it's cool. I don't know about that, I said. I got kidded pretty hard when I first started wearing glasses.
"Yeah, but you were a different kind of kid: chubby, bookish and half a dweeb,'' Sue said.
''Sam's a lot more self-assured than you were.''
That's why I think some genetic traits skip a generation and some are just on a time-release basis. Sam got his chutzpah early.
posted by Michael Riley at 2:12 PM
5 Comments:
What, no pictures of the family vacation to Disney World? (Yawn)
We hadn't heard from nasty anonymous in awhile, I thought he'd changed his ways and was busy helping his fellow man..guess I was mistaken..still time..
also noticed the time of your blog//3:50 AM...that explains a lot about your manic personality...try some sleeping pills..preferably a whole handful!
"also noticed the time of your blog//3:50 AM...that explains a lot about your manic personality...try some sleeping pills..preferably a whole handful!" -- anon-b-gone
Psst... When you need 911 at 0337, know that someone like me will be there to help. That said, feel free to go back to your whining and bitching about what time I made my last post. Don't worry your sleepy little head. Someone other than yourself is on watch.
anonymous manning 911?!
"Please hold while I finish posting"
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