I See Said The Blind Man To The Deaf Horse?!

.....me yesterday.

That's it. I've been thirty for less than three months and already IT'S happening. I thought I'd have at least a few more good years in me.

I confess I've had a few grey hairs since I was a teenager. It didn't bother me much; I just quickly took up the profession of hair colourist. I've been able to deny my increasing maturity (obviously not mental maturity...pff) ever since.

But this? Next stop, I'll find myself waking up one morning and nonchalantly tucking my envelope boobs into my gargantuan 'three for a fiver' market stall knickers.

I. Simply. Cannot. Let. This Happen!

My problem this week? I think I need glasseess.

The fact that I'm covering my left eye whilst I type may have finally convinced me to go to one of those 'eye people'. I've been telling people at work (amidst my moaning about the whole left side of my world going fuzzy and pogo-ing around the place) that I simply can't be blind. I had one of those eye tests and they said I had perfect vision.

I realised, however, that that eye test was in fact twelve years ago and it was paid for by my now deceased grandmother.

Maybe it was time for another run of the old letters board?

I somewhat stupidly confided in Dave. Was I expecting some sympathy? Some lovely murmurings of "I'll still love you" or "I bet you'd look really sexy in glasses" perhaps?

Nope.

What I received was a show stopping rendition of "Four eyes...You've got four eyes" alongside a dance move which comprised of him jumping around the kitchen, his hands clasped into circles, thrusting his fists into his face and gyrating his hips!

A few hours later when I thought that the whole sorry subject was finally over, he turned to me and asked...

"Because it's only your left eye, do you think they'll give you a monocle?"