Beans or Craisins

My husband and I are “at that age.” We both feel young (but aren’t). I have hopes one day of running a marathon. I’ve always wanted to and sort of have—it was a marathon walk to raise money for the March of Dimes and I ran it instead of walking. But it doesn’t really count. And my husband always wanted to do a triathlon, but spinal stenosis put a crimp in that.

So we’re feeling young and healthy—well, except for the stenosis. But there’s one aspect of age we haven’t escaped, one that exercise can’t help. Aging eyes. Both of us need reading glasses. BTW, “reading” glasses is a misnomer. I do need them for reading, but I also need them for everything else. Yesterday my daughter and I were in line together for food at our church potluck. As we were passing through the salad selection, I pointed out a salad to my daughter and asked, “Uh, I don’t have my glasses. Is that a bean salad?” My daughter laughed. “No, Mom, that’s apples and craisins.” Oh, right.

And then there’s the inevitable grocery shopping trips where I peer at labels that I can’t read. Then, I say to my husband, “Hey, you have glasses on. What does this say?” He squints and shrugs. “These are my driving glasses. You know, for distance.” Then I squint at him, “Oh, right.”

I say, “You should wear your bifocals.”

He says, “You should wear your reading glasses.”

Me: “I’ve misplaced them.” (Just so you know, I have five or six pairs scattered through the house.)

I need to get one of those glasses tethers. The kind that librarians wear. Okay, true confessions, I’ve actually bought a couple. The really cute beaded one got caught in my hair and made a rat’s nest and the base of my neck. It had to cut out. The fabric and plastic one I bought broke—I took the tether off the glasses too many times because I didn’t want the librarian look when I went out.

Oh, and by the way, those cute reading glasses, the ones that are hip (if reading glasses can be hip) and come in attractive colors and shapes, they don’t fit me. Women’s reading glasses squish my temples and give me migraines. Apparently, my head is larger than most women’s heads. (Thank you, northern European ancestry.) So I wear the extremely attractive men’s reading glasses with clunky black frames.

Here’s what I’m thinking. I’m going to buy some Dumbledore half-moon reading glasses and create a trend. Reading glasses—the new hip accessory.

So you’d better get your pair now so you can be a trendsetter, just like me.