I am having an eyetest, a necessary precursor to obtaining a pair of glasses that neither tilt at an alarming angle from one ear nor are at the bottom of the Irish Sea.
Scooter is watching the proceedings with great interest and sharing helpful observations while I am trying my best to focus on the letters ahead.
“That’s not a ‘Y'”, Mummy,” he scolds me, “It’s a ‘V’! Silly Mummy“