Texture and Interest

I took Deanna to the eye doctor today. She has been complaining of having trouble seeing since Dane got his glasses last year. I was a little slow to respond. Finally, this summer, while at the Pediatrician for her annual check-up (actually every other year at her age), he did a vision screening and told me I needed to have her seen by an eye specialist.

At 9:15 this morning, we blew into the Optometrist's office. After a good wait, she was seen and the doctor told us that her vision was borderline, but since she was complaining of having trouble seeing, we should try glasses for her. She added that Deanna's vision will only get worse, not better. True, although it sounded ominous and official coming from her.

After being seen and picking out frames, we were waiting for the lenses to be ground while we sat in the fitting area. It was painfully quiet in the room. I suggested to Deanna that they needed some nice background music, like elevator music or soft rock. Even Country Western would be better than the silence that surrounded us. A little ambient noise would have gone a long way to create a pleasant atmosphere in the office. Deanna frowned at me.

To illustrate my point, I began humming the theme song from the original Star Trek series. I added some gentle hand motions to increase the relaxing element. Deanna raised one eyebrow, something I taught her to do, by the way.

"Mama, you're embarrassing me," she blurted out. "And people are staring at us."

"It's okay, honey. We're just two wild and crazy girls. Ignore them." I picked up my humming again, just where I had left off.

"No, we're not two wild and crazy girls. You're wild and crazy. I'm embarrassed."

I was shamed into stopping my hand motions. Just to spite her, I hummed a few more bars. Then I sat quietly for a few minutes.

"They should hire me, you know. I added a lot of texture and interest to this practice."

Deanna refused to look at me. She's too young yet to really understand the value of texture and interest in a business like an eye doctor's office.

Someday, she'll mature, and then she'll really appreciate her mother's hand motions and humming. Until then, I guess I'll have to reserve my humming to when I'm alone.