Friday, June 27, 2008


My youngest picked out his glasses. I already explained why we got plastic frames, not wire frames.

I favored frames that matched his light brown/dark blonde hair color. He tried on some jet black frames and, in a nasal voice, kept saying, "I'm a poindexter." I was not impressed, but the technician thought he was a hoot.

He decided the battleship grey frames were for him. I didn't think they were the best, but I am fine with letting him choose what he wants in that realm.

He has been wearing them for the past two days, which is more than I could say about the wire frames. He had to be constantly prodded to keep those on.

His big brothers keep calling him Weezer, since Rivers Cuomo, lead singer (and pretty much the entire creative force behind the band), wears dorky square glasses. When he passes by they sing Beverly Hills or Hash Pipe.

That doesn't bother the kid, though. He is fine with them thinking he looks extreme in one way or another.

If his brothers knew more Weezer, they'd realize the song to sing is Buddy Holly. And that would be fine with my youngest because he don't care what they say about him anway. He don't care 'bout that.

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