tragedy turned comedy

On Sunday morning, Mr. F and I were trying to get ready for church amid a crazy scramble to find his glasses.  The process was all the more challenging due to the fact that he is nearly blind without his spectacles.  We scoured the house, half dressed, wet from showers, and frantic only to find them on the living room floor in this condition.

The dog ate his glasses.

I jumped into high alert, researching where to find a new pair and in a hot hurry.  Mr. F was scheduled to leave town for an interview that Wednesday and I was dreading the thought of having to reschedule under the pretext of "My dog ate my glasses."  That kind of lame barely gets you through high school, let alone a job interview!  Luckily we're in America again where places are open on Sunday, so we rushed over to the optician.  The optometrist worked her magic and we were able to procure a handsome pair of glasses.  Somehow, amazingly, it worked out rather well.

We had some time to kill while the lenses were put in, so we hopped back into the car and went to Cracker Barrel.  Now, Mr. F had had his eyes dilated during the examination and was suffering greatly from the extremity of light.  Dilated eyes anywhere isn't especially fun, dilated eyes in Florida in June is just cruel and unusual.  Unless you're the wife of the patient and think it's absolutely hilarious, then it's just fun.  Wearing my sunglasses and clutching onto my arm like he was as blind as Ray Charles, we maneuvered through the onslaught of products Cracker Barrel has to offer and made it safely to a table.  We spent the next hour eating some of the best biscuits and gravy known to biscuits and gravy while having a real, honest to goodness, down and dirty conversation about our life.  

Now, this conversation should have been hard, just like the dog eating the glasses should have been tragic, but neither were what they were supposed to have been.  We spoke of serious matters but with a lightness and openness that defied the gravity of our situation.  Things made sense, to both of us, and we left full of giggles as well as biscuits.

Eventually we made it back to the shop to pick up the new glasses, which he still couldn't see out of due to his dilated eyes.  More giggles, more joy.  We never did make it to church, but given the way the day turned out, I think that's okay.  We needed each other for some reason on that day in particular.  And had it not been for the crazy dog who eats everything, we never would have been able to just sit down and talk out what we needed to or laugh like we needed to.  Mr. F still couldn't see at the end of the day, but I think he needed that, too.