Reading the Small Print...

I've got three pairs of glasses on the go. No, not drinking glasses. Far too early. Reading spectacles.
I have four pairs actually: one missing in action, presumed dead, or at least squished, bent or misshapen by some colossus of clothing piled in one of the many corners upstairs. Do call in for a rummage, if you're passing. The missing pair  just happens to be the fancy expensive ones bought in a bona fide, wallet-busting opticians, naturally. Of course it wouldn't be one of my growing Tiger collection. In a shop of this name you can buy them for four quid. Bloody marvellous.
I was in there yesterday, as I happened to be passing, and thought I had better supplement my dwindling stock. I also bought something I have long resisted.... a glasses chain! So now I can assume an entirely new persona in my retirement- Mrs Slocombe from "Are You Being Served?" And would you Adam and Eve it? This very ghastly sit-com from the 70s is being revived. I read it today. It's frightening when things like that come together. Makes you feel as though we're all part of some grand plan.
Lately, I have been getting on Dearest's nerves. I say lately, because until quite recently I could read every and anything no matter how small, sans lunettes. Never be smug about this. Because one day it's like someone has been tampering with your optic nerve in your sleep because no matter how hard you peer, squint, shut one eye, stand on one leg, the print that you had no difficulty with the day before, has become grey mush. Now I've started to peer at texts as well (although this week our granddaughter showed me HOW TO ENLARGE THE FONT: great stuff). So whenever Dearest says Look at this, while holding a piece of reading material, a text, or Credit Card statement (gulp) it precedes a ten minute foraging for a pair of specs. You can feel the irritation level is up there with woman-searching-in-bottom-of handbag for keys/passport/ tickets..
But no longer! This ample bosom which has fulfilled no useful function since breastfeeding, has been given a new lease of life as the ledge upon which my chained glasses rest. I tell you, it has revolutionised my life.  I have won an extra half hour in bed in time saved from looking for my perishing glasses.
As I looked at them fondly at the end of the day, I could see the flotsam and jetsom of the day's grazing, caught on the lenses. Excellent. A bedtime snack...

Here's Looking at You..