A couple of weeks ago we got an email from Abbott's teacher. Apparently, Abbott had told her the board was 'blurry'. I was surprised and not surprised not to hear it directly from him; sometimes it's like pulling teeth finding out about school. I felt badly about not noticing he couldn't see very well. Anyway, he saw an optometrist last Friday and indeed needs glasses. It feels like a bit of a loss to me - I won't be able to see his face in the same way most of the time, ever again.
I remember well my first pair of glasses. I was eleven. The choices available to me were slim, and I ended up with a blue plastic pair that I hated. It was a love-hate relationship: on the one hand I could see; on the other hand I was self-conscious about my appearance. I remember the dramatic car ride home from the optometrist's office: the leaves on the trees had such definition! By the time I reached middle school I took them off (a different pair, but I didn't like them any better) as I walked down the hallways at school, inadvertently snubbing people as I couldn't see them to say 'hello'.
Happily Abbott is taking it all in stride. Mostly he's impressed by how well he can see.