It has been alluded to, by persons who shall remain unnamed for about the next ten sentences, that I may need an eye exam and slight vision correction. Actually, what he said was, “You can’t see a damn thing, and you’re dangerous in the dark, stop falling all over the truck!”
No one wants to admit they may be getting a little older and things might not work as well as they did a few years ago. I’m in my forties, my grandmother tells me I’m just grown, but my joints and back tell me I’m getting creaky. I’ve held out on the glasses thing. I tell myself as long as I can see the computer to type, I’m good. My husband doesn’t agree.
“Wow, babe, look at that wolf over there! It’s in a field full of sheep!”
“That’s a llama.”
“Where’s a llama? Those are sheep!”
“No. There’s a llama in the field with a bunch of cows and calves. They keep coyotes away. You really need to have your eyes checked.”
“What the hell are you talking about? There’s a wolf and a bunch of sheep. Oh yeah, okay. Maybe that was a llama. But I don’t think those were cows.”
“Babe, please go have your eyes checked. I worry about you driving the car.”
“Gah, I’m not feeble. I just can’t see things far away.”
“You can’t see things close up, either.”
“Pfft. Yes I can.”
“You tried to get your face lotion out of the candle you keep on the bathroom counter last night after you washed your face.”
“What the hell! You were watching me wash my face? What kind of weirdo are you?”
“I was standing right there waiting to shave.”
“You were hiding, being a weirdo and watching me accidentally pick a candle up instead of my face lotion because I wasn’t looking, not because I can’t see.”
“You didn’t see me standing there?”
“No. I mean, yes. Dammit. Shut up. I’ll get my eyes checked after this trip.”
