I thought Hanna got off pretty easily with her eye injury last weekend. No corneal damage, just some abrasions on her conjunctiva (a word I can now spell without having to look up). The only meds are four simple drops into her eyeball daily. How hard could that be?

Step 1: make Hanna think I am her friend through a 15 minute process of joke telling, snack eating and basically letting her do whatever she wants so she will agree to allow me to come at her with a tiny squeezy bottle filled with a liquid she claims stings her eye.

Step 2: dim the lights, remove any and all sisters from the room, set a noise cancellation fan, close the blinds, draw the drapes and endure a series of deep breathing exercises while holding hands, smiling and making guttural, humming sounds in unison.

Step 3: Ask Hanna, “Are you ready?”

Step 4: Hanna says, “Yep” at the same time, closing both eyes so tightly, the lids disappear entirely and I see just eyebrow and top of cheek on both sides of her face like those dolls made out of cotton stuffing and nylons.

Step 5: Hanna peeks to see where I’m at with this arrangement, not even close to long enough for me to randomly spray the drops in her direction.

Step 6: Ask again, “Let me know when you’re ready, okay?”

“Okay.”

Step 7: Hanna exhales violently, arches her back like she’s being restrained and undergoing shock treatment and stares at the ceiling. At no time does she say, “I’m ready” or “Go” or “Ariba!” Nothing. Just upside down eye ball pose.

Step 8: I gently pull down her lower eyelid as she kicks me in the shin.

Step 9: “Can I pull down your eyelid and drop it into the bottom part of your eye?”

Sure.

Step 10: I pull down her eyelid and she glues her eyes closed, urging them to fully envelope the bottom eyelid I am attempting to lower.

Step 11: I drop the bottle in between the couch cushions, little sister enters singing “Let it Go.” Wouldn’t I love to.

Step 12: Back into position, I am tempted to rest my knees (ever so gently on her shoulders and pin her down) she says, “Ready!” before jerking her head and looking away.

Step 13: I squeeze a drop out of the bottle and it hits her right nostril.

She says, “It’s in!” (No it isn’t!) “It’s in, I can feel it.” She’s lying, it’s in her nose. She wipes the drop from her nose holding firm that it landed directly in her affected eyeball.

We discuss the negative effects lying has on a family.

Step 14: Repeat 3 more times.

photo is a likeness. Photo is actually not even close.