Friday, August 5, 2011

Diagnosis Confirmed

I took BiblioChild1 to the optometrist to updated his prescription and replace his misshapen and scratched glasses.  I’m still not sure how the kid was able to see out of these things as they look like he dropped them on a slice of peperoni pizza, tried to clean the lenses with a tiny Dremel and sat on them in frustration before putting them back on his face. 

He was doing a good job working through the various tests, answering the questions from the Doc as best he can.

“Which is clearer option 1 or option 2?”
“Option 2 or option 3?”
“Option 3 or option 4?”
“Option 2 or option 3?” Ad nauseam

The Doc then pulls out a color test where BiblioChild1 has to identify the number hidden within a bunch of colored dots. 
The boy flies through this test with no problem and is starting to get bored.  I did what I normally do to break the monotony and tried to lighten the mood.
“I’m not sure if this is relevant or not but BiblioWife has been telling me for years that I’m color blind.”
The Doc spins in his chair and fixes me with an inquisitive look
“Are you really?” he asked as he started to flip back through the patient history to see if I mentioned it in the mounds of paper work that I was required to fill out. 
“No, no no, just kidding. Because she’s always …..  I’m not…. T’was a joke.” 
“Oh, ok.” He almost looked disappointed.  “Let’s check anyway.”
He turns the test around on me.  BiblioChild1 is now grinning ear to ear in the examination chair because I put my foot in my mouth and he isn’t the only one being tested now. 
The first one was no problem but as he turned the pages I noticed that I didn’t answer as quickly as the boy and some of them I couldn’t figure out at all. 
This one for example is supposed to be a 6 but I can’t see it, even if I scrunch up my eyes and turn my head back and forth trying to get a different angel on the 2D image. 
Apparently I’m partially Red-Green color blind. 
“This doesn’t leave this room.” I say, knowing that if BiblioWife finds out, I will never hear the end of it. 
It doesn’t bother me at all and I couldn’t really care less but I don’t want to give the love of my life any more leverage over me.  She will find some way to incorporate this new fact into any argument to sway the decision in her favor. 
“We need to a new car.”
“Why? The ones we have run great.”
“The truck is about to reach 100,000 miles.”
“…And? We just paid it off and it runs fine. Why would we get a new one and start payments all over again when don’t need to.”
“You can’t even tell the difference between red and green. Meet me at the dealership.”
I decided to use it to my advantage and make my affliction public.  I figured that I could use it for a lot of excuses and it may even help to reduce the blame for being a walking fashion faux pa. 

The next morning I told Wifey and come to find out, BiblioChild1 spilled the beans as soon as we got home and she was waiting to see if I would admit it on my own.  The little shit hasn’t learned to keep a secret yet.
Now I just need to find a way to use this new found deficiency to get some extra sexy time….

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