For some time my husband was convinced that daughter number two had a squint. ‘Look!’ he’d say urgently, and I’d whip round in an attempt to catch her eyes crossing. I always missed it. Eventually, when we were sitting round the table for supper one day, I realised Georgie was looking at her fish fingers with one eye, whilst keeping the other on me. It was a neat trick, but one which made me feel a little queasy, so we took her to the GP for a referral.
Several months later, Georgie is now the proud owner of a pair of Harry Potter-esque glasses, which she diligently polishes each morning and tucks away in a case before bed. She is the envy of her friends and siblings, and no longer freaks people out with her wandering eye.
I felt rather glum when the Optometrist wrote out her prescription. I know there are far worse things than poor sight, but glasses are such a pain and at some stage I’m sure the novelty will wear off for her.
In the meantime she provides excellent entertainment value for a bored mother on a rainy day…
(I let her eat the chocolate afterwards).