Most Likely to (Succeed) Go to Jail
Most Likely to Succeed Go to Jail
I know which of my children will be named most likely to go to jail in their high school year book. It happened right in front of me. I didn’t even notice – not until some 20 hours after the crime was committed.
Yesterday I took Isabella to the optometrist’s office. I took her immediately because she began complaining that the board was blurry at school.
That’s not true.
She actually started complaining in December and I didn’t believe her. I thought there was a very high likelihood that someone in her class got some glasses and she wanted to have some too. Also, academically she is doing well and when I asked her teacher he didn’t think she had a vision problem either – so I didn’t really put it on the crisis to-do list. Then we switched insurance coverage at the end of the year during open enrollment. We went from a PPO to a HMO which meant our pediatrician could no longer treat us. So, we got a new one. By the time our turn came around to be seen it was February.
—-
The first time we met our new pediatrician we didn’t have to wait very long before we were called back.
“Did she tell you she is having a hard time with her sight?” the nurse asks me after giving Isabella a vision test.
“She mentioned that the board is blurry but I honestly thought it was an attention seeking comment. It isn’t something she brings up regularly.”
“Well, she did fail the test. You may want to make an appointment for an optometrist to see her.” I’m told as a ping of guilt makes me feel slightly queasy.
I call our optometrists office and get an appointment. The next available appointment was a month away.
Maybe I should take my own advice and “be a good listener”.
That appointment was yesterday.
—-
We enter the office of our local optometrist. I explain, “Isabella failed her sight test at the pediatrician’s office, but I’m not 100% sure she is really in need of glasses or if it’s a performance.” I wink.
“We have ways to check – to see if she really has a problem,” I’m told with a wink right back.
20 minutes later …
“Yep! She needs glasses,” I’m told. “She’ll need to wear them all the time.”
Damn! I think. Poor kid. I should have listened.
Isabella smiles, deep dimples “I’m going to be able to see! Do I get to pick my glasses?” she whispers to me.
“Yes. You do.” I smile back at her.
“Do you want to pick out your glasses?” The aide asks as she guides Isabella to the kids frame section.
“Yes!” she nods, still smiling.
“I get gwasses too mama?” Blu wants to be included in the conversation. “I be wike Isabwa.”
“We will get your eyes examined when you are older Blu. You are only two.”
“Waiter?” she asks.
I confirm the timeline with the Optometrist, “Yes Blu. When you are four you can get an exam.”
“Oh! When I four? Okay.”
Isabella is excited. She is immediately drawn to a purple frame. She is measured, they are ordered, we will wait two weeks. In two weeks she will be able to see properly.
—-
Which brings me to this morning…
I dropped off Malik and Isabella for school and head to a friend’s house to drop off a camera I borrowed. We don’t stay long before we’re heading back to our house for our morning routine. Blu packs a backpack wherever she goes these days because Malik and Isabella have one for school. All three of them leave the house every morning wearing them.
As I drive back toward the house, Blu unzips her backback and pulls out her first toy. “I pway with my cwocodilo (she removes her toy crocodile from her backpack). I pway with my bwankie (she removes her blanket from her backpack). Wook mama! I have gwasses too!” I hear Blu say as she whips some frames out from her backpack. “Gwasses wike Isabwa” I’m expecting to see sunglasses we get at target for the kids.
I look in the rear view mirror at her. “What are those?” I ask, not recognizing them.
“I pick out gwasses too mama.”
I stop at the next red light and swing my head around to get a better look immediately realizing that they are nice frames, with a bar code on the front. “Did you get those glasses at the doctor’s office?” I ask as I note the $200.00 label on the lens.
“Aha!” Blu says proudly. “I be wike Isabwa.”
Instead of turning left toward the house, I turn right toward our optometrist’s office, which is only a couple blocks away.
“Where are we goin mama?” Blue asks sweetly, completely unaware of what she has done.
“We need to return those Blu!” I explain. “You have to pay for things before you take them. Those don’t belong to us.”
“Buh sharing is caring mama. I wan to be wike Isabwa.”
“Yes, sharing is caring Blu. But stealing is naughty.”
“Steewing is naugh-e?” she cocks her head to the side.
“Yes. We need to go say sorry and give them back.”
“Oh. Okay Mama.” She says happily.
I pull up to the curb in front of the office, unbuckle Blu from her car seat, take her hand and walk through the office door.
“I know which of my children is most likely to go to jail.” I tell the receptionist of our Optometrists office while pointing at my 2-year-old.
“What?” The woman behind the counter scrunches her nose.
“It’s going to be this one!” I continue to point to my two-year-old standing sweetly by my side completely unaware that I just called her a criminal.
Our Optometrist comes out of her office, “What’s going on?”
“My child apparently stole some glasses so she could be like her sister.” I share with the staff, who is laughing (thankfully). “Look them over. If there is anything wrong with them let me know and I will pay for them.” I tell the receptionist.
We leave the office, I buckle Blu back into her car seat and start the car with a sinking feeling … this warden is going to have to flip her cell when we get home and see if there is any other contraband I’m unaware of.
Lucky little girl that she has you for her Mama. Well done Liz!
Thank you Janet 🙂
Hilarious! The line between stealing and sharing is a little thin?
Haha! It seems there is no line at all when you are 2 …
She is my cutest thief!! 🙂 She is so adorable! Lol. It was the funniest thing ever!
Thank you so much!