I can’t see

Well, per­haps that is an exag­ger­a­tion. I can see. I just can’t see the small print.

I went to the eye doc­tor a few weeks ago. I was cer­tain I was going to need glasses. He did all these fancy tests.  I sup­pose they were not really fancy. It’s just that I’ve never been to the eye doc as far as I can remem­ber, so every­thing was fancy.

Bot­tom line: He told me that I’m get­ting old. And I had to pay him for that.

I ought to wear read­ing glasses. And I do when I must. I found some groovy glasses that match my out­fits. Or at least my atti­tude, depend­ing on the day.

You know, I think every­thing used to be printed in much larger print. Some­where along the way, they all decided to go to a much smaller font. And I know about fonts because I work with fonts over at Fruit­ful Vine Cre­ations and My Fruit­ful Deal. I’m an expert, right?

And my kids are aston­ished that I have such a large font on my phone.

Whip­per snappers.

This is the rea­son I teach them to read. Not only can they reach things in high places, but they can read labels for me. I just tell them they are learn­ing about ingre­di­ents and how to read a label. I think they are buy­ing it.

As I was walk­ing out of the doctor’s office, he had to rub it in. “You know what the prob­lem is, right? You understand?”

Yes, loud and clear. My hear­ing isn’t going bad, you know.

I really don’t think he was old enough to be an actual doc­tor. He seemed so young.

Photo credit: Camilla Hoel / Foter.com / CC BY-NC-SA