A couple of years ago I bought my first pair of reading glasses. At that point, I needed them only for the teensiest print. I tried on a variety of styles and selected a pair with somewhat-hefty, tortoise-shell frames–kind of artsy. Or so I thought when I picked them out.
In the past year, my vision has declined quite a bit. The +1 correction was still enough, but I had to wear the glasses a lot more often. So, recently I bought a new, lighter pair. They’re frameless with titanium ear pieces. The effect is invisible and weightless.
I showed the new glasses to George.
“I like your old ones better. They make you look like a dweeb.”
“What!?” I laughed. “And this is a good thing?”
“Well, okay, maybe I don’t mean ‘dweeb.’ Maybe I should have said ‘nerd.'”
“Oh, now I feel better.” I shook my head. “It’s all the same, George. Dweeb, nerd, geek–”
“GEEK! That’s what I meant to say. They make you look like a geek.” He gazed at me with adoring eyes.
This is what I get for marrying a scientist. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining. He lavishes me with compliments all the time, and it’s a really great feeling. But a girl has to wonder . . . I mean, this is the man who marvels over the beauty of an earthworm.
Ah, well. I love my nature boy. We’re approaching our 26th anniversary, and his 50th birthday is Friday. Both of these events have prompted all kinds of memories to rise to the surface the past few days, some of which I plan to share with you. So stop back by in the next few days. (I’m giving you advance notice, just in case you need to upgrade your glasses. Let me recommend the somewhat-hefty, tortoise-shell frames . . .)