I went to get my eyes checked last Friday. This is something I try to do on a routine basis as part of my protest against the side effects of diabetes. I knew I needed new reading glasses. Not because mine weren't strong enough anymore, but because someone sat something on top of mine and they were no longer the proper shape to stay on a human face. I finished my exam and I asked what seemed to be an innocent question:"Are contacts an option?" I hate glasses. I hate cleaning them and keeping up with them and obviously I'm terrible about leaving them laying around where things can be set on top of them. What I wasn't prepared for was her response: "You'd need bifocal contacts since you don't need anything for distance." No way I'm even having the rest of that conversation. I am waaaaaay too young for that. So off I go to choose new frames. I have to go to the kids' section because my face is so skinny.
Fast forward to Wednesday--I go to pick up my glasses. The worker asks me if "she" is with me, referring to the mystery child whom the glasses are for. I sheepishly inform her they are for me. Then I try them on. Everything looks great right in front of my face. Then I glanced over at Katie across the room. She's blurry. I have to take off the glasses to see her clearly! Visions of an eyeglass chain around my neck and my arms stretched out in front of me began to flood my brain. I think I'm going to go have a mid-life crisis now and there's going to be shopping involved.
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