Much as he enjoyed oatmeal for breakfast, Ben had to admit that it lost a great deal of its charm by the time he had to do the evening dishes.  He sighed and reached for the scouring pad to attack the last dried-on remnants, then smiled as a pair of arms snaked around his waist and a chin came to rest on his shoulder.

"Is Abby doing her homework?"

He could feel Ray's jaw moving as he answered.  "Mm hmm.  Math.  Logarithms."

"Ah, one of the fundamental concepts.  A good solid understanding of the logarithmic scale will stand her in excellent stead throughout life.  How's she doing?"

"Great, as usual.  She thinks it's the coolest thing ever.  I swear, the two of you and math-- the aliens have landed and I helped their leader reproduce.  I've betrayed the human race."

"Now, Ray, a positive attitude is a great asset in education.  She's going to have to do the work anyway; we should consider it a blessing that she enjoys it."  He rinsed the oatmeal bowl, and Ray released him with a kiss on the cheek and took it out of his hand.

"Blessing, brainwashing..." he looked around for the dishtowel, jumping out of the way with a smile as Ben swatted him on the behind with it.  Taking the towel, he dried the bowl, set it on the counter, and waited for the next one.  "I dunno.  I always hated math.  It's not so much that I didn't understand it, I mean, there was some stuff I didn't get, but overall I did all right.  I just couldn't make myself care.  Math is boring."

"It's only boring if you believe it is, Ray."

"It's only interesting if you believe it is, too."

"Well, yes, I suppose that's another way of looking at it.  Anything is interesting if you approach it with an open mind."

"Anything."  There was a hint of challenge in his voice as he watched Ben scrub.

"Yes, Ray."

"All right.  Explain to me what's interesting about day-old oatmeal."

"Ah."  He paused, wondering how on earth Ray always managed to call on him to defend whatever he'd been secretly pondering himself.  "Well, it does adhere itself rather firmly to the dishes.  It rather brings to mind the adhesive used by certain mollusks to attach themselves to rocks or the hulls of ships, which forms the basis for many modern waterproof glues.  And then of course there's the history of oatmeal, which was first domesticated--"

"I asked for interesting, Fraser.  Oyster glue and oatmeal domestication are not interesting, they're trivia.  Trivia may get you rich on Jeopardy, but it's not exactly going to make you popular at parties."

"All right, then what would you consider interesting?"

"About day-old oatmeal?  Nothing."

"But you see, Ray, thats a self-fulfilling prophecy.  If you go into a situation believing there is nothing interesting about it, then no matter what happens, you'll perceive it as boring."

"Maybe that's because it is boring."

"But that's circular reasoning.  If--"

"Dads?"

"Yes?"

"Yeah, honey?""

They turned toward the kitchen door, where Abby stood with a sheet of paper in her hand.  "Could one of you sign this?  It's a permission slip for the field trip next week."

Ben pulled the plug to let the sink drain, rinsed and dried his hands, and reached for the paper while Ray finished putting the dishes away.  "This is for the trip to the art museum?" he asked, scanning the sheet.

"Yeah.  We're supposed to pick one painting and write a story or a poem about it."

"They're still doing that?  I think I had that same assignment when I was in sixth grade."

"Really?  What painting did you choose?"

Ray thought for a second or two as he placed the last few plates on top of the stack and shut the cupboard door.  "I think it was a landscape.  Something with mountains."

"I was thinking of doing cave art."

"Sounds much more interesting than mine already.  And speaking of interesting..." Ray watched, intrigued, as the permission slip moved progressively further from Ben's face.  Once it reached a full arm's length away, it was tilted back and forth to catch the light, then squinted at.  "Having trouble, Benny?"

The permission slip snapped back to normal reading position in a hurry.  "In what sense?"

"You want me to hold that for you?"

"Don't be silly, Ray.  I'm quite capable of holding a sheet of paper."

"OK, but you might want to take your boots off."

"My boots?"

"You were about two seconds away from holding that thing with your toes."

"I most certainly was not."

"You ever think about getting reading glasses?"

"My eyesight is fine, Ray."

"Yeah, right."

"The print is small."

"And that's how a person with normal vision reads small print?  They see how far away they can get it without dislocating their shoulder?"

"You're exaggerating."

"Oh, no, I'm not.  Abby, how was your dad holding the paper?"

"Like this."  She demonstrated, stretching out one arm and craning her head backwards with an exaggerated squint.  Ben watched, impassive, and Ray chuckled. 

"See?  Face it, Benny, we're not thirty-five anymore.  I've been using reading glasses for two years now.  Do you think less of me because of that?"

"Of course not."

"Then why should it bother you that you might need them?"

Unable to come up with an appropriate rejoinder, he gave in.  "All right.  I'll make an appointment to have my eyes checked.  "

"You're doing this to prove me wrong, aren't you?"

"Well, it's obviously important to you that I go, so--"

"Could I have my permission slip back, please?"

"Oh.  Yes, of course."  Picking up a pen from beside the telephone, Ben signed the form and handed it to Abby.

"Thanks."  With a long-suffering sigh, she left them to it.

~~~Monday, November 23, 2015, 3:41 P.M.~~~

"Now, I'd like you to hold this over your left eye and read the lowest line you can see clearly."

"W, E, P, D, G, F."

"Excellent.  And now I'm going to change the screen, so if you could please do the same thing with your right eye covered?"

"D, I, V, P, S, O."

"Perfect.  Your distance vision appears to be just fine, Mr. Fraser.  Now let's see what you really came in for-- I'd like you to take this card and hold it in your lap, keeping the screen over your right eye, and read the lowest line you can see clearly.  No, don't squint... and please keep the card in your lap."

"S, F... N, D."

"Mm hmm.  And the other side, with the other eye?"

"A, L, M... C."

"I see."  The optometrist wrote something on a pad of paper, and he wondered what it was.  He'd barely hesitated, even though the print was almost impossibly small.  His eyes were fine-- better than fine, according to his old RCMP physicals.  Since he was no longer a field officer, he wasn't required to have them every year, but surely he'd know if he'd suddenly gone blind.  And he hadn't, so what was she writing?

He was given ample time to wonder as she took her pad and left the room, promising to return in a few minutes.  He studied the card he'd just read-- was that a C?  If he held it up where the light was better, it looked more like an O.  If only he had a magnifying glass... he squinted, trying to make up his mind.  Maybe if he...

"Excuse me, Mr. Fraser?"  His head snapped up.  Dr. Crowder was back, watching him from the doorway.

"Ah.  You see, I was just..." he trailed off.

"It's all right.  Now, I'm going to have you look through a series of lenses.  Could you lean forward and put your chin right here, please?"  She pulled the arm of a machine down in front of his face and adjusted it until he was looking straight ahead through a pair of eyeholes at yet another page of letters.  "At first, the lenses are just going to make things very blurry.  I want you to tell me as soon as you think you can read the bottom line."

He waited obediently until the first set clicked into place, then pulled away.  "You know, this really isn't necessary."

Gently but firmly, she guided his head back into position.  "Maybe not, but just for now I want you to humor me, all right?"

Too polite to protest further, he complied.

*****

Ray and Abby were cooking dinner when he got home, Abby tearing lettuce for salad while Ray stirred something on the stove, and they exchanged hellos as he went into the bedroom to change out of his uniform.  Returning, he dropped a kiss on the top of Abby's head before opening a drawer and starting to count out flatware.

"So, are you ready for a white cane and a trained dog yet?" Ray asked.

"Actually, I think the appointment went very well."

"Did you get glasses, Dad?"

"I have a pair of reading glasses, yes.  He arranged three place settings on the table, then went back for plates."

"So do we get to see them?"

"They're reading glasses, Ray."

"Right, and we've never seen you in them.  So get them out, put them on, and smile for the camera."

"Ray--"

"Relax, it's just an expression.  Now, come on."

"You're being silly."

"Come on, Dad.  You made me try on that funny hat that Aunt Maggie sent me for my last birthday."

"It's not a funny hat, it's just not what you're used to.  They're very common where she lives, and very practical in cold weather.  I wore one just like it when I was your age."

"It has ear flaps."

"So it does.  They're much more effective than earmuffs at preventing frostbite."

"They make me look like a dog."

Ray turned off the burner and spooned mashed potatoes into a bowl.  "Gee, you mean the cocker spaniel look isn't in this year?"  He handed her the bowl to take to the table and pointed the spoon at Ben, who was getting salt and pepper out of the cabinet.  "And you, don't think I don't know that you're stalling."

"You're imagining things."

"Oh, no, I am not.  I am not imagining things.  You're trying to get Abby to complain about that hat so you don't have to show off your new glasses."

"I most certainly am not."

"All right, so let's see you put them on."

"They're upstairs, and besides, dinner's ready."

Ray rolled his eyes and threw up his hands.  "Have it your way.  You get a reprieve until dinner's over.  But as soon as you're finished..."

"All right, Ray," he promised, infuriatingly agreeable.

*****

If finishing dinner was stretched to include clearing the table, stacking the dishes, and putting the leftovers in the fridge, the promise was kept.  Forced out of the kitchen by a partner and daughter allied against him, Ben went to the bedroom and returned bearing a small plastic case.  Removing a pair of plain, black-framed reading glasses, he held them up for display like a magician showing off both sides of his silk scarf, then settled them on his nose and cast a forbidding gaze over the top.

Abby giggled, satisfied, and ducked around him to run off to her room.  Ray just leaned against the kitchen counter with an amused smile.

"Well?"

"You look like a librarian."

"Ah."

"The kind that can strike terror into the hearts of whispering children with a single glare."

"Ah."

"Of course, you know what they say about librarians."

"What who says?"

"They.  People."

"No, I don't believe so."

Ray raised his eyebrows slightly, his smile mysterious.  "I'll tell you later," he promised, then switched to an ordinary voice.  "It's your night to do the dishes."

Slipping his glasses back into their case, Ben accepted a kiss and picked up the sponge.  Life was back to normal.

~~~END~~~