"Skrrrrrapits"

I went to visit a doctor today. An optometrist. I’ve worn glasses about three years now. As my eyes are getting older, my vision deteriorates. It’s a fact of Life, it seems. So I went. Colleen came too. It was her doctor, Ms J. She’d recommended her to me. Dr. Skrapits. Dr. Linda Skrapits. Funny name. Lovely person.

She’s about my age, I guess. Younger, I suppose. She has a three-year-old boy at home. A picture of him adorns a desk in her examination room. She’s blond, pretty, funny. She examined my eyes thoroughly and joked with me. She did her best to make me feel at ease. She took all the time I wanted, filled out my forms for insurance, and wrote a prescription for new glasses.

When she learned I was a locomotive engineer at VIA Rail, she asked lots of questions about my job.

“How far do you travel?”
“Do you like it?”
“Do you stay away overnight?”

Her little boy is crazy about trains, Ms J. She gave me a Thomas the Tank Engine sticker.

“You were a very good boy, Dale,” she said showing straight, white teeth.



I’m looking forward to seeing her again next year.

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