The timing is not appreciated. Just as I am about to embark on grandmother-hood for the first time, trifocals were prescribed by the optometrist today. Talk about making me feel old and decrepit.
I had noticed subtle and slight variances in my vision. The laptop screen needed to be pulled closer and closer to the edge of the desk. When I read my Bible, the red lettered words were a struggle to decipher. And lo and behold, I sat at a restaurant with our family, attempting to read the menu by slyly pulling my glasses down my nose every so subtly, only to be told by our youngest daughter, “Mom, you look so old when you do that!” Thank you very much, I appreciate that observation.
Today I confessed to the optometrist. I told her that if I am to read clearly anymore, my nose is going to have to grow longer, so I can further slide my glasses down my nose to be able to read. It was a painful confession. Now, within a month’s time, my new title Grandma AND my new trifocals will arrive. At least I will be able to clearly see Lil Man’s face through my new granny glasses.
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