I believe the week before one's birthday may be a precarious time to submit oneself to an eye examination. Each annual visit finds me worried that it will be "The Year" that I find myself relegated to bifocals.
My eye doctor is extremely disappointed in me still, as I am currently not in need of said lenses - and she has been wearing them for a few years now.
Stinks to be her.
Whilst my older brother keeps getting older, my younger (baby) brother continues to enjoy taunting me. Each new birthday brings about a sense of expectation and wonder of what he will say this year. He turned 40 this year. 40!! 4-0. It was a day in which the angels wept and I rejoiced.
Until today, when he reminded me that I was closer to DEATH than he.
At least I still have my wits and my eyesight going for me. Unlike my maternal unit, who suffers from cataracts, but refuses to do anything about them. A legitimate fear brought about by her friend who actually lost one eye due to a botched cataract surgery. (Insert Katy dialogue here)
"Is she able to see okay out of the glass eye?"
There was much laughter about her faux pas until we witnessed the maternal unit walk across the floor and bend down to pick something up. She apparently having seen a "speck" of misplaced material of some sort. What was it she attempted to pick up and throw away? It was something she had attempted to pick up and throw away on a number of occasions, and she has been unsuccessful each time.
A sunbeam. A ray of light from the window.
Happy Birthday to me.