Sunshine On My Eyelids

While Bill and I were trying to ignore a repeat of a repeat of America’s Funniest Home Videos during dinner last night, he glanced across the room at me and said, “it’s almost time.”  I gave him a nod, then proceeded to shovel the rest of my garlic mashed potatoes and pork roast into my mouth so I would be done in time for the ‘event,’ which was a full solar eclipse.  This rare and wondrous sight, for those who have the proper eyewear, wouldn’t occur again until 2117 – just in time for Bill and me to celebrate our 130th anniversary.

Mom piped in when she realized that something might be happening that could overshadow the side-spitting, slapstick humor of watching full grown adults do amazingly stupid, and possibly life threatening, things to themselves and/or others, most of it involving men’s private parts.  “It’s almost time for what?” she asked.

“The solar eclipse,” I informed her after gulping down my milk and wiping off my milk mustache.  “It’s supposed to hit its peak in a couple of minutes.”

“Well, you know,” she said, using her wise mother voice, “you should only look at that with your eyes closed.”

Bill gave me a quick backwards glance, shaking his head and trying not to laugh too loudly, as he headed into the kitchen.

“And how, exactly, would I see it if I had my eyes closed?” I asked.

“Well, you could wear sunglasses I suppose, but closing your eyes is best.”

“Okay,” I said, following Bill into the kitchen with my dirty dinnerware.  “I’ll be sure to close my eyes when I look at it.”

“Maybe to be safe you should wear sunglasses anyway,” she called after me.

I put my dirty dishes in the sink, then headed for the backyard to check out the progress of the eclipse.  As I was closing the patio door, Bill yelled out, “Don’t forget your sunglasses.”

About 20 seconds later I was back in the kitchen trying to blink the sun spots out of my eyes.

“So, how’d that closing your eyes trick work out for you?” Bill asked.

“Very funny, but sadly true.  It was really bright.  I couldn’t see anything but sun and now all I see are spots,” I said, rubbing my eyes. “I can see how people can get blinded by looking at the sun.”

“So what you’re telling me is, basically, you’ll do anything to get a dog.  Right?”

“We’re not getting a dog,” Mom shouted from the living room.  “And I told you to close your eyes!”

I hate it when she’s right.

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