There are two things my wife rarely does. One is spend money or buy new things. The other is go and see doctors. In our ten years today, Maria had her eyes checked once, and I had to drag her to the optometrist. The second time was a few weeks ago, when she got a new prescription for glasses. No rush to fill them, she announced, and I thought it would be a long time before those new glasses were ordered.

One night last week, when the screws finally fell right out of her battered old glasses and we spent a long time trying to get them back, I had the bright idea to tape the glasses together, and I could see that she loved the idea, I shot myself in the food because she would wear those taped glasses forever.

The optician gulped when he saw her old pair and took them back into a secret room to get rid of the scratches.

I made a big scene about it, and she reluctantly agreed to go to Bennington and order a new pair of glasses. She went, but not happily or quietly. Our opticians – the Moulton Spectacle Shoppe – were lovely and helpful and Maria found a pair of glasses she loved – the only pair in the whole shop (pe) that she loved.

They are also inexpensive. I got my glasses there for about $300 and her tonier ones cost about $380. Try doing that in New York City.

I make it a point to never stop at a shop called “shoppe,” but these people were  truly nice and helpful and knowledgeable.

We went and got them today. Maria was very happy. I never saw her so happy about buying something that cost more than $20.

The opticians and I agreed these were great (in fact, I took them off a shelf and showed them to her after watching her turn down about a hundred others, including a purple frame I liked.) She was – is – just delighted.

She carefully wrapped up her old lenses and put them in her jacket pocket, she plans on keeping them as a back-up pair. They will be with us a long time. Nothing ever gets thrown out here/

I was excited by these glasses, they not only looked great,  but there is a good chance she will stop driving my car onto various bone-ratting curbs. She seems not to see curbs.

Hallelujah, I may not live to see her buy another pair. I told the optician that this was a high water mark for he. He patted me on the shoulder and wishes me good luck. Maria too.