The darnedest thing

Why is it, that every time I set foot in an eye doctor's office, I get treated like I am five years old?

This is a picture of me, here: http://i12.photobucket.com/albums/a218/skycat_98/nyesig.jpg While I don't look my age IMO (30.5), I don't think I look like a teenybopper either. So why, oh why, did the following exchange take place?

I picked out my frames, the assistant chick had me go to the living room to show them off. Mom loved them, Dad was like, "I'm not the guy paying, so whatever," and I believe I woke Mr. Samoa up from dozing off. So I go back in, and she chirps, "How did they like them?" I advised her of all the above, and she looks worried and goes, "Oh, do you want them to come in and help you pick?" I'm like, "Ummm... no, I want these!" And I did procure them. But, I remain unclear on how a 30.5 year old married person needs PERMISSION for a specific set of frames! I mean, I am thinking Mr. Samoa would have been a bit perturbed had I picked $400 Gucci frames, our eye insurance being not so great; however, that's about as far as his concern goes! And even that, he was like, "Umm, we'll figure out a way for you to get whatever frames you want, even if they're spendy." (They weren't, for the record.) I just found the whole thing very odd. The eye doctor himself is the only one in three counties who can manage not to bugger up my prescription, so I trek over there still, but his techs are a little weird.

(We will not speak of the Wal-Mart Vision incident. Suffice it to say that my name isn't "Miss Zen", I will wear however much eye makeup I choose, and I don't want contacts!!! I have since learned that I was not alone in such unfortunate incidents there- guess you get what you pay for!)