Torture by Visine

Clint went to the eye doctor a couple of weeks ago, and they gave him some much needed eye drops. He had been complaining that his eyes itched and he would rub them so much he looked like he was more baked then a twice baked potato.  But since it took six months to get around to going to the doctor, it will take him another six months to get around to getting the prescription filled. In the we go to Target and get some regular eye drops to help in the meantime.

Now eye drops are not really interesting or exciting or humorous. But trying to put them in a grown man’s eyes when he is emphatic about you not putting them in his eyes is hilarious. During the struggle that occurs, I have to keep stopping to clench my legs together to keep from literately peeing with laughter.

I get Clint to sit down at the table, and tilt his head back. As I approach his eye with the dropper, he starts freaking out. He is blinking his eyes like an owl on acid and is squirming away from my touch. Every time I put my hand on his forehead he moves.  I successfully manage to get one drop in his left eye but as soon as the drop touches his eye, he is howling with pain. He immediately rubs his eye to get drop out. This of course negates the whole purpose.  Clint retreats to the kitchen where he rubs his eye while he sulks at me for “hurting” him.  Nothing says mature like a full grown 31 year old man rubbing his eyes and cowering in a corner of the kitchen.

I have to pull him out of the corner and I decide that this whole process would be much easier if I could just sit on him. So I convince Clint to lay down on the floor in the living room and I sit on top of him, straddling his shoulders. Now, this position is awkward and uncomfortable but it probably super entertaining for anyone looking in our living room right now.  I have to keep Clint still by squeezing his shoulders with my knees and I have to hold his face still by squeezing it between my elbows. While doing all of this, I also have to somehow manage to get the eye drops into his eyes.  I proceed to attempt to place the eye drops in his eyes all the while laughing hysterically at his frantic attempts to remove me from imprisoning him.

I am finally successful and by this point both of us have tears rolling down our cheeks. Me from laughing, and Clint from me “torturing” him.  I took this time to compose myself. But the sight of a grown man cowering from an eye dropper will be with me for a long time.

 This is a picture of what Clint should truly be afraid of - me when I am bored.