I have a bright eight-year-old son named Max. He’s clever, freckly, and always a step ahead, keeping me on my toes. As my youngest child (I affectionately refer to my boys as Handsome 1, 2, and 3), he brings a delightful energy into our lives. However, I was not ready for what unfolded during our annual pediatrician visit last summer.
The appointment began with the usual routine: measuring height, weight, blood pressure, and pulse. The kids were doing well, all hovering around the 50th percentile as they had since birth. Then came the vision tests in the hallway, a part of the visit that always makes me anxious. My husband has poor eyesight, and the thought of our kids inheriting that trait weighs on me. So far, only Handsome #2 needed glasses. I held my breath as each child took their turn. Handsome #1 and my daughter passed with flying colors, but when it was Max’s turn, he faltered. My heart sank; he seemed to be struggling with the chart. We were referred to an eye doctor for further evaluation.
To soften the blow, I allowed him to explore different glasses online after we got home. He was ecstatic, creating a favorites list filled with various styles—from oversized frames to vibrant colors. He even inquired if he could get multiple pairs. I was proud of how he embraced the situation, especially since he had always enjoyed trying on others’ glasses, including his goggles. The next day marked his first visit to the eye doctor.
As we entered the office, Handsome #2 appeared apprehensive, surrounded by strange equipment and odd chairs. Max, however, was eager and unafraid. I completed some paperwork while the technician began asking him questions:
- “Do you have trouble seeing things up close?”
“Yes.” - “How about far away?”
“Yep!” - “Does bright light bother you?”
“Uh huh. All the time.” - “How well do you do in the dark?”
“I can’t really see anything?”
I was taken aback. How had I missed this? My sweet boy was struggling, yet he never uttered a word. He once wore shoes two sizes too small just to avoid bothering me. The exam commenced with the tech presenting him with a book of small letters. He managed the first line but faltered on the second. By the third line, he was getting nearly every letter wrong. I was stunned! The left eye test mirrored the right. It seemed odd to me that both eyes had the same vision, but I dismissed the thought. The technician then moved on to larger letters, hoping his distance vision would be better.
The lights dimmed, and Max covered his right eye, looking innocent with the little spoon against his face. She displayed a giant “E” on the screen—the letter everyone should see easily. He squinted and said, “P?” There was uncertainty in his voice. My heart raced. “Sweet baby Jesus!” I whispered; even my husband, with his poor eyesight, could identify the “E”! The technician switched screens, and he continued to struggle. He barely managed 10% accuracy. I realized he would undoubtedly need glasses.
After thanking him, the technician left, saying the doctor would be in shortly. The doctor entered, shining a light in Max’s eyes and assuring me everything looked fine. He then asked Max to identify different lenses, starting again with the large “E.” Max claimed he couldn’t see out of either lens. I thought he was just easing into the process to gauge his prescription strength.
- “Which is better: one or two?”
“I can’t see anything.”
“Interesting,” the doctor said, changing the screen to more lines. Max failed again and again. Then, in a moment of careless abandon, he suddenly read a line perfectly. Oh.My.God. He was pretending the whole time! Here I was, worried, and this little rascal was lying!
Max then declared, “Two. Definitely two!”
“Excellent. Your vision is perfect. 20/20. I’ll see you back in a year,” the doctor said with a smile, giving him a fist bump.
The look on Max’s face was one of utter devastation, as if I had just delivered terrible news. He couldn’t believe the doctor saw through his clever ruse. As we left, he sulked through the parking lot.
“Max, why did you pretend to have vision issues if you could see?”
“Mom! I can’t see! That doctor doesn’t know what he’s doing!”
I shot him a look that said, “I know you’re not being honest!” He finally confessed, “Fine! I don’t need glasses. I want them, OK? They’re cool. I’ll just wear Handsome #2’s old ones!”
“It doesn’t work like that, buddy.”
“Oh yeah? Well, I’ll wear Dad’s. I’m getting glasses someday. I swear!”
This declaration came from my son with perfect vision, determined to have glasses, even if it meant bending the truth. Next week, his brother is heading to the orthodontist for braces. I can only wonder if Max is plotting to make his teeth look crooked to snag some braces as well.
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Summary:
A mother recounts the humorous yet concerning tale of her son, Max, who attempted to feign poor vision during an eye exam to obtain glasses. Despite his cleverness, he ultimately was revealed during the appointment, leading to a heartwarming and comical realization about childhood desires.