Or I could title this "Anger never helps" or "No use crying over spilt milk".
Almost two months ago Gabe lost his little glasses. He sees OK without them but his eyes don't work well together and he gets rather cross-eyed. I waited aver two weeks to order new ones hoping we'd come up with them. He has limited access in the house and I was sure we'd unearth the things. We cleaned couches--in and behind, toyboxes, book shelves, drawers, and even the younger boys bedroom--no easy feat. They were nowhere. I was on the phone telling someone that "Gabe never throws anything in the trash can so they can't be..." when he popped the lid and dropped in a toy. Jaw dropped. Mystery solved. The glasses were somewhere in a trash heap in Michigan's Upper Penninsula.
I emailed the company where we ordered his first pair to place a duplicate order, got an emailed receipt, and left for a two week vacation, expecting to get the package in the mail upon our return. Instead, I found an email in my inbox (sent on the day of my departure) stating that Gabe should probably see his doctor first to check the prescription before placing the order and would I like to do that. Ughh! Don't you think I would have thought of that myself? I would. And did. I replied to say that our pediatric opthomologist has a FOUR MONTH waiting list for appointments. Place the order!
Mind you, I DID pause to consider that perhaps God was putting off the order because we were meant to find the old pair and I put in a second search effort before sending the final email order go ahead. Still no glasses. In the meantime, Gabe is now managing to navigate the two worlds he lives in with fair success as he can hardly keep those eyes straight anymore.
Finally, yesterday, the long awaited package arrived and I have spent the last 24 hours getting Gabe accustomed to his corrected vision and the, by now, new feeling of glasses perched on his little nose. Then, lo and behold (what? I never say "lo and behold", must be the moment) doesn't Lisa (6) come running up to me this afternoon with a pair of glasses yelling, "Look what I found Mama! Now Gabe can have a new pair and an old pair." She was grinning from ear to ear. Two months and $154.00 later, I was not grinning, and soon neither was she. I didn't yell, or scream, or flail, or even speak. But she knew that smiling was not the appropriate facial expression for the moment.
I thought I turned the house upside down. Somehow I didn't think to open the basement hide-a-bed and check inside the little bead and crochet purse that was hiding under the mattress. Silly me.