A nurse friend informed me that 42 3/4 is the magic age for needing bifocals. She mentioned this just days before my 43rd birthday. I panicked. Then I had a few instances where things didn’t want to come into focus while I was at the sewing machine. But, hey, look at these! Single vision lenses! I passed the read-the-tiny-up-close-print test with flying colors. Take that, aging eyes! I’m not sure why the thought of bifocals bothered me so much. Probably something about how it’s only downhill from here.
Do you see the BRIGHT GREEN case? I felt like I was a kid again while I was waiting to see what the technician pulled out of the drawer of filled glasses orders. This is what went through my head: Oh, put the black glasses case back. No, those aren’t mine either, that’s an ugly case, put that back. Hey, would you take a look at who the bright green one belongs to? Yeah, that one, pick it up. YES!
What can I say? It’s the small things that keep me happy.