Will and the Magic Glasses



  Will and the Magic Glasses

  John Mancini

  Copyright 2010 by John Mancini

  Chapter 1 -- FAMILY RITUALS

  Will looked through the Sunday newspaper. "Family rituals are important," proclaimed the article on the front page. "They are the glue that helps to bind together a family, providing a point of constancy throughout the many changes that a family endures over the years. This is especially true during the holidays."

  Being that it was Sunday as well as the first Sunday of Advent, there were definitely rituals in the Mancini household. Sleep a little bit late. Read the Sunday paper. Get dressed a little nicer than usual for church.

  And then there were William’s rituals. Those little extra touches that added to a calm and relaxed Sunday morning before going to church.

  For example, one of William’s most important rituals to torment Mom was the "Question the Clothes He Has Been Asked to Wear" ritual.

  "William, we tried these on in the store. You swore to me that you loved them. In fact, you said that you loved them more than any pair of pants that you had ever had on in your entire life. You said that you hoped to wear these pants the rest of your life, perhaps even to your wedding. You’ve worn them once. And now you say that you can’t wear them?"

  Then there was the "Torture Dad by Reading Every Line of the Best Buy Advertisement While Everyone Else Was Already in the Car" ritual. "Just one minute, Dad. I just need to check out which televisions are on sale at Best Buy in case you should ever decide to get me one for Christmas since they’re on sale for only $99 for a 13 inch TV and all."

  And of course, an old reliable, the "I Forgot to Tell You that My Asthma Medicine Was All Gone and Could We Stop at Giant to Refill the Prescription Before We Go to Church?" ritual. "Mom. You are always saying I need to take my asthma medicine. And here I am, minding my own business, just trying to be a responsible child, like you always say you want, and then you get made at me for just saying that we need to make a slight detour on the way to church?"

  But no ritual was more effective in getting the attention of his parents than one of Will’s personal favorites, the "Glasses, What Glasses?" ritual.

  Glasses. The dreaded glasses. It wasn’t that he hated wearing them, Will just could never quite remember to.

  "William," Dad tried not to get upset, since it was just before church. "Why is it that every time we ask you about your glasses, you act like it’s the very first time you ever heard of the subject? You’ve been wearing glasses for three years now, and every time seems like the first time. Now where are your glasses? We are late for church. We should have left five minutes ago."

  William pondered this impenetrable question for a few moments.

  "Let’s see…" he began. "I think I had them when I left for school on Friday. And then I had them when we were doing math. And I had them for a while when I was in lunch, and then I was having a hard time eating with them on so I took them off and I put them in with the sandwich that I decided not to eat because it had too much crust on it. And then I put the rest of the sandwich in my backpack. That’s IT. Now I remember. The glasses are in my backpack."

  This was better than William usually did. Usually, the glasses were not to be found. They were one of life’s great mysteries. Kind of like that Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade movie where Indy was looking for the cup during the whole movie.

  Will reached down into his backpack. He noticed a reading log that he was supposed to fill out every night. Oops, better get on that. He dove down past a bag of potato chips. Past the list of spelling words from four weeks ago. Past his cello music. Cello music? I don’t even play the cello any more. I wonder where that came from? Past a pen that had leaked in the backpack about a month ago. Past a sweatshirt that he had stuffed into the backpack one day when it was way too warm to wear a sweatshirt, but his Mom had made him wear one anyway. There it was! The sandwich crusts…and right where he left them, the glasses.

  "See Dad. Just like Mom always says. A place for everything and everything in its place."

  "Never mind that. Just put them on." William slapped the glasses on his head. "Everyone is waiting in the car. Let’s go."