Seth's intervening

Update: Just got back from the store and hubby has surprised me with a two-day vacation to the coast. See ya'll when I get back.

In my family, even something as ordinary as a trip to the eye doctor can be an adventure. Thursday was Jonanthan and my annual eye exam; needless to say, we needed it. That morning, I watched in disgust as my last contact lens flipped of my finger, fell to the floor, and headed for parts for unknown. More than likely, they're having a rendevous with all the socks that are MIA

Seth appeared in the doorway a few minutes later, holding a mangled ball of metal and plastic in his hand.

"What's that?" I demanded.

"My glasses."

"Uh huh. And why aren't they on your face?'

"They fell off as I was riding my bike and I ran over them." Seth replied, acting as if this was a normal occurance "By the way, why are you on the floor on yout hands and knees?"

Always as irritable as a wet setting hen when I lose a contact, I glared at Seth. "I'm paying homage to the dust bunny king under the counter." I snapped sarcastically. " What do you think? I lost a contact lens."

Seth frowned, and squinting like Mr. Magoo, dropped to his knees and began searching too. "Maybe if you leaned further over the sink--"

I was not in the mood to be lectured in Contact Care 101 by my teenager, and it sometimes irritated me when he "mother-hened" me. "Don't act like my father," I returned coolly, glancing at my watch. Oh great, an hour until the eye appointment, and we're all only half-dressed. With efficiency my ex-military officer father would have been proud of, I made sure everyone was dressed, then herded them off to the truck. .
I hate to be late, and was happy to learn we got to the eye doctor's with thirty minutes to spare.

The wait was painful; Robert zoomed around like the Energizer Bunny, and Seth moaned constantly he was "growing old with boredom." Finlly, before my sanity was totally lost, we were called into the exam room. I gort in the chair first, and the doctor, an older Bon Jovi look-alike, entered the room. He began to put my eyeballs through the paces by reading the charts. Satisfied with the results, he scooted nearer until we were knee to knee a he examined each eye. "Don't look down," he instructed. I was shocked when I felt a hand rubbing my knee.

This guy is coming on to me! I had heard of some incidents on the news in which this occurred, and doubted the validity of the accusations. But this was real, it was happening to me! He's not even shy about it. He's rubbing my knee in front of my boys. Just as I was about to give the doc a blow they would feel in the next country, Seth yelled out, "Robert, stop rubbing Mommie's knee." The baby was rubbing my leg! For once, Seth's intervening paid off.