Reading glasses. Yep. That's what the eye doc said.
I've always been pefect that way, near, far, in-between, 20/20, crisp, sharp, practically x-ray vision, and yeah, darn proud of it. This is why it took me for a loop when he said those words.
"For now, just some mild readers, but by the next time I see you, we'll probably be talking something stronger."
The next time he sees me? I will not be going back anytime soon. Maybe next decade.
It's a terrible situation–the list.
First went the ankles (broomball, you know). Then the knees (more broomball). Followed by the back. But those body failures were due to me doing something. They were like a badge of honor. My eyes? Shoot. I just got older. These are READING GLASSES! I didn't do anything.
So I picked them out. There is no such thing as a cool pair of reading glasses. The case isn't even cool. Like they think I'm blind and can't see how dorky they look on my face.
What did you get for Christmas? Me, oh, I got proof of my mortality. I got reading glasses.