Love is a Strong Word…

For my optometrist. I’m sure the UPS men are used to feeling the love and lust of women, but this may not be as common for optometrists. Well, I’m not ashamed to admit it. I love my optometrist. He is an incredibly kind LIAR.

During my freshman year of college I had hideous red-rimmed Sally Jessy Raphael glasses because reading was a challenge and who didn’t want to look like a talk-show hostess? I lost them before the end of the year and never bothered to get a new pair. And, I stopped doing my eye exercises with the pencil because I looked like an idiot sitting in my college dorm trying to follow a #2 pencil from side to side without going cross-eyed. 

When I teach, I tell my students to let me know if the Power Point slides look blurry because frankly, I wouldn’t know if they were. Then I’m fascinated when they say they can’t read the slides because they look fine to me, but I defer to those with healthier, younger eyes.

So I went to visit the eye doctor because I figured 20 years is probably long enough to deny I need glasses and at some point, I’ll be a hazard to myself and other drivers on the freeway. I’m also starting to go cross-eyed again while I read and figuring out which of the images to pay attention to is too much work. After my exam, the doctor told me I needed glasses – no big surprise. I told him it was one of the joys of getting older and was promptly interrupted with, “Not getting older, growing up!” I chortled at his kind words and knew he was lying, but appreciated his attempt to soften the blow.

Forty is knocking on the door. I’m tempted to add a few deadlocks and pretend my hearing is next to go, which it very well may be. I know forty is the new twenty-five, right? So I should just accept the glasses as part of growing up, throw on a sassy little skirt and go bar-hopping to make it truly authentic. More likely- I’ll simply put on my glasses and snuggle up with a great biography and cup of tea. At least the frames won’t be red, huge, and hideous. Maybe that’s just part of growing up.