You'll probably need a good strong pair of glasses yourself -- or a magnifying glass, maybe -- to even see Jaymi's new specs in this photo, taken last night at The Stinking Rose in North Beach). But she's wearing them.
Look closely. See them? Perched right on the end of her adorable little nose?
She picked out the lightest, most delicate frames I've ever seen. Not only are they nearly invisible when she wears them ... they weigh barely more than an ant's eyelash. I'm terrified to even pick them up and hold them: I'm afraid that if I breathe funny, they're going to shatter right there in my hand.
(I vaguely remember feeling the same way about her, when she was born.)
I couldn't go with her to her appointment yesterday -- I was wearing the Totem Pole hip boots, knee-deep in Franzshit all day -- but David went and picked her up at lunchtime and took her to Site For Sore Eyes in Oakland ... waited for her while she had her exam and chose her frames ... and then took her out to lunch afterwards to *celebrate.*
I must confess: as much as I would have loved to have been there to witness my firstborn outfitted with her first pair of glasses: another entry for her baby book! ... there was a teeny-tiny part of me that relished the idea of the two of them spending time together. I love the way their friendship is flowering. I love the bond of affection and respect I see growing between the two of them. I want to encourage it, and nurture it, and help it grow ever deeper and sweeter. They're going to be *family* eventually, after all.
(Plus: how are they going to talk about me, if I'm always there?)
They both called me within minutes of each other, right after the appointment.
"It went well," said David, sounding pleased and proud of himself. He said that they'd had a nice afternoon together, and that Jaymi was great, and that she seemed very happy with the glasses she'd picked out.
"Did you guys talk about me at all?" I asked, and he said that yes, she was regaling him with some more horror stories about my final days in TicTac. (Specifically, she was telling him the story about how she heard a terrible crash out in the laundry room, late one Sunday evening, and when she went out to investigate she found me sitting in a pool of blood and broken glass.) When David asked her if she likes me better sober, she said yes ... but that sometimes she misses how "funny" I used to be when I was drunk.
A few minutes later, Jaymi called. "I love my new glasses!" she said, sounding pleased and proud of herself. She said that they'd had a nice afternoon together, and that David was great, and that it was fabulous to finally be able to *see* without that thick coating of Vaseline on everything.
"Did you guys talk about me at all?" I asked, and she said no, not really.
I am going to miss her horribly when she goes home tonight.