. It's not an opticians I would choose for myself, as I am a surprisingly private person. Space is tight in this particular shop and you know that the person next to you, virtually on your lap, is taking notes of your prescription and all your personal details.
Whilst I don't want anyone listening to me, I can highly recommend the experience of eavesdropping on other consultations if you are terminally nosey, like me.
Next to me were a little girl and her mum having eye tests. The girl was six and probably far too wiggly to have to sit on her mum's lap but lack of chairs and space made it necessary.
"I'm sorry, she's not in the computer."
"Of course I'm not in the computer, I'm on Mummy's lap."
Mummy shifted uncomfortably and hissed, "Yes, you are. Now, be good and be still."
"I can't find you either. I'll have to re-enter you as new patients, if that's OK."
Mummy shrugged. What else could she do?
"I'm Matilda," the girl said helpfully.
"Thank you and how do you spell that?"
The girl rolled her eyes at her mum and spelt her name out phonetically. "Everyone asks that."
"You're right everyone asks that. I don't know why."
"I don't either it's a really easy name to spell not like my friend Hermione."
The optician shuffled, brushed her hair over her ear and adjusted her collar. "There are just so many ways of spelling names now."
Then it was Mum's turn but Matilda wasn't ready to be ignored again. The optician asked about Mum's title.
"It's Mrs."
"No, darling it's Miss isn't it because I'm not married to Daddy am I?"
"Yet."
Mum's eyes widened at her daughter's certainty.
"Well, no. I don't think so. I'm not going to marry Daddy." Pulling a face at the thought she continued, "No, I can think of much nicer people to marry than Daddy."
"Oh, I quite like Daddy. Are you sure you're not going to marry him?"
"Yes, I think so."
"Can I marry him then?"
If only Mummy had gone to SpecSavers seven years ago then Matilda could have been saved from her Oedipal desire.
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