Maybe it's going back and forth between the florescent Costco lights and into his little dark office, but the optometrist has lost it. We've been going to him for years, no reason other than laziness. Costco has good deals on contacts, so I started going there years ago. Then I got my eyes fixed, Lasik (total miracle), and now Mr. Costco is stuck with Shana and Shawn. Here's what he says over and over again, asking Better? Worse? Or the same? Better? Worse? Or the same? But slow, kind of like Bb.e..ter, ww.oorrse oorrr ttthe ssaamme? Over and over. Over and over. We can't get out of there without cracking up. Poor guy. He goes through receptionists pretty fast, too. Even with a great 401K and health insurance, I'd only be able to make it a day listening to him. So it's back today. Shana will go in. We're even bringing fresh meat. Sister Amy, home for the holidays, wants to come out from behind the specs and get some contacts. I can hear her laughing already.
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