Two days ago the SmileyDad broke his glasses. His cool ones with the wide cool-guy frame. The one he likes. The frame just went POP and broke.
So this morning he has a day off. I'm in the living room, he's in the kitchen. I hear him make a phone call. Mumble mumble. Mumblemumble mumble.... MUMble. Silence.
Then he comes stomping through the living room looking Very. Upset.
Then the phone rings and he says to me, Don't answer that! I don't want to talk to her!
(Ring, ring)... Talk to who? says the very befuddled me.
(Riiiing)... HER! Don't answer that! OK get that but I'm NOT talking to her!
**uh, WTF is he talking about?**
So I look at the caller ID (this all occurs in about 5 seconds) and it's the eye doctor. I answer it and I say, Um, he's... busy right now? Is this about his glasses?
Yes, she says, please have him call me back. Um, OK then, thanks. Hang up.
SmileyDad comes back in. I give him the so-confused look (I use this look so often, he can read it pretty well). He explains to me that THEY have it on THEIR records that HIS last pair of glasses was purchased there in 2006 and that CAN'T be right because he DISTINCTLY remembers getting them last summer in 2008. And he told me that he... sorta hung up on the receptionist... 'cause he was so mad that they had lost his records.
Now I think back but can't remember, I have a lot of memory loss lately. At that very moment, I just so happen to speak to my friend down the road, because she called to say hello, and she then remembers how I said something about his new glasses... last summer. Okay then, so we all agree... he got these glasses last year. So we should look for a receipt.
Because his warranty is only good for 2 years. Hence he's all stressed out. But at least he has a spare, albeit not "as cool", pair to wear.
So... dig dig dig through paperwork, look up old tax folders, even call the insurance company.
Well guess what... they all say the same thing... last VISIT for an exam was 2008. Last pair of new glasses? 2006.
So we take a little drive over to the eye doctor where SmileyDad, who is generally a very nice guy raised by a good mama, sheepishly apologizes to the receptionist for the above-mentioned hang-up.
And we figure out that if he wears his spares till next June, his insurance will at that point just let him get a new pair. No out-of-pocket repairs needed, then.
So we're all good. Everybody breathe puh-leeeeease.
Except for the whole bad-memory thing. That may not be so good.
Now.... what was I supposed to be doing? hmmm... no idea.
:) Have a good one.
The cluttered lives of middle-class Americans
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