My son doesn’t enjoy eyedrops. Apparently, he is violently opposed to them. I found this out today when I took him to have his eyes examined by our friendly eye doctor who, before this morning, had probably never heard screams the likes of which echoed through the hallways while we – two of us – administered the drops into a thrashing, 60 pound ‘little’ dude’s eyes. These eyes were squeezed so tightly shut that I found myself fantasizing about ways he could use his eye muscle strength for personal gain. After a good half minute of wrestling, my boy immediately played it cool. As soon as he climbed off of my lap, he took a deep breath and followed the nurse out to a toy chest to pick a “prize.” I felt a breeze. It took too long to realize, but there it was. The top three buttons (3!) of my blouse had popped open in The Eye Drop Conflict of 2016. You never know, as a boymom, what might happen during unexpected wrestling matches. It was very hot today, but I figured a blouse open down to my belly button would be frowned upon at the medical complex.