I was a smart child yes but one skill i couldnt master however was talking. My mother realized that i would not look directly at her but a little scew and not focusing on anything but merely gazing while talking to me.. Worryingly she took me to an eye doctor who took one look at me with his blue eyes and send us to a specialist. So we went to the best doctor we could find. Shining a light in my eye then rolling back to his desk, scrimbling something on a piece of paper and repeating it on the other eye. Making me look at shapes and pictures asking me questions like can you see if this one is bigger than that one?
All the while im on my moms lap on the examination chair since i was too small to sit on my own on the giant throne.
It turns out i had a lazy eye. Which isnt all that bad since it is almost treatable. For the next three years my mom was forced to bandage and close up my left eye. I could remember the looks and double takes people would give me when my mom occasion took me into the outside world. I can understand why though, i was three years old and half my face was covered with plasters.
I have the greatest appreciation for my mother for enduring my tantrums every morning and every night for three years because after those troubling years i was sent back to the original mediocre eye docter and was told as long as i visit him every six months ill have perfect eyes for the rest of my life.
A small price for sight however was that i would be accessorized with a pair of glasses each day. I didn't mind at that point because for the first time i could see all the wonders of the world,the clouds, the trees and my beautiful mother.
