Last week while we were driving, Anaya tried to convince Alan and me that she was going blind. (I think it was a bid to get glasses.) "No, really, Mommy," she protested when I chuckled. "This is not my 'magination! My eyes just stop seeing, and everything gets dark for a little while! I'm serious, Mommy!"
"Does it all get black for a few seconds?" Alan queried. "And then do you start seeing spots of pink and purple?" (My husband is good at this.)
"Yes," Anaya breathed. "How did you know?"
"Is it happening to you now?" I put in.
There was a short pause. "Yes, it is!" she shouted.
I looked back and saw her in the back seat, eyes squinted shut tightly. But the suspense of not being able to see what was going on was too much. Soon one eye opened cautiously. "Sometimes it just happens to one eye, and then the other," she added. "Like, right now it is just one eye."
"You can relax, Anaya," I assured her. "The problem is not with your eye. It's behind your eye."
"What's behind my eye?"
She wasn't going to be satisfied that easily. "But what about my other eye?"
"The problem is behind that one too."
"Wow!" she blurted. "You mean I have two brains?"