It’s Hard To See With A Pen In Your Eye

Oh, no she didn’t.  Yep, she did.  I ripped the pen from the little chain it was anchored with, leaped through the sliding glass window and stabbed her in the eye, screaming the whole time, “NO! I DON’T MIND YOU ASKING!”, again and again.  The police were, of course called, and I am typing this from my holding cell at the Baltimore County Detention Center.  I might be slightly exaggerating here, I should probably back it up a few hours..

The morning started innocently enough, I was off to see my eye doctor to address my rapidly deteriorating vision. The time of  reading glasses in every room of the house, hanging from my shirt, perched on top of my head, stolen from my husband, has arrived. I know this happens, but since I wasn’t born with eyes that work, this doesn’t necessarily signal the end of my life as I have known it.  Though, if you were in my Dr’s office this morning, you probably would have called ahead for your bedside commode and walker and had it waiting for your return home.  

I arrived at the office and was politely asked to have a seat, “dear”.  Okay, right there. If you are 20-something, please don’t call a 40-something “dear”..as a matter of fact, don’t call anyone “dear”, unless they are in fact, a “deer”, and that would probably be ok.  So, I sat my apparently ancient, dear ass down and waited to be called. Thirty minutes later, I was summoned back to the window of shame and asked, in a whisper, “How old are you..if you don’t mind me asking?”  CONGREGANTS! PLEASE REFER TO PAGE ONE OF MY BLOG HYMNAL!”  My journey into writing was launched on this very premise..and so it began. The poor dear, how could she have known? 

I started softly, “why would I mind?”  Her response..”well, you know how people are”   Still not catching on, she spies my date of birth on my record and states..”no worries, secret safe here”.  Uh-oh. The red button in my brain started flashing..”push me” and   I launched into my lecture about enjoying and appreciating all the years. Realizing I had a little audience behind me in the waiting room, I threw in a dramatic offer to take some folks on a little field trip to the Johns Hopkins Pediatric ICU so they could visualize how very fortunate they are to be able to grow gray and semi-blind. I heard a “Amen Sister’ from the waiting area and I marched back to my seat feeling like the Norma Rae of aging. gave a low-five to a 70- something woman, and waited for the police to arrive, because of the unfortunate scuffle that may or may not have occurred. 

Screw this silly culture that devalues aging so much..hold off on posting my bail too..I think I need a break from you silly young ‘uns before I really go off the deep end ..’tis the season! 

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11 thoughts on “It’s Hard To See With A Pen In Your Eye

  1. Loved this!! (and oh so true it is! lol) Tho there is no way in (bad word omitted) I’d go back to my 20/30/40 self (way fonder of the current iteration thank you very much) Still, I’m with you on the “over-40–doesn’t-mean-ready-for-dead-wagon”!
    **(apology for the previous typed and ignored run on sentence). **

    Now I’m off to find my glasses so I can rub some anti-age cream into my wrinkles (NOT! roflmao)

    Thanks for a great read (and may I copy your eye chart 🙂

    Issy

      • Thanks ‘honey/sweetie/maam/darlin’
        (did I miss any of the not 20 but not decrepit annoying ones?’! (roflmao)
        Thanks for the ‘ok’ – think I may use it as a template for a tattoo. Hmmmmm..

        You are just too funny Tess! keep it up 🙂
        Issy

  2. Loved it. Just wait until you get the “you look good for your age” when you reach the pinnacle of 60……does that mean I would not look good UNLESS I was? My 70 to 90 year old friends laugh cynically when I tell these tales.

  3. Oh I just love this. Now I don’t feel so bad about wanting to strangle the really boring woman at the Ted Talk. I know you’d understand (I hope you’d understand, because if you don’t, I’d feel pretty much alone in this one)

  4. I completely understand Maria. The audacity of a speaker to be boring..it’s like a hostage crisis..I get it. As long as we don’t act on our murderous impulses..just keep writing, flowing 🙂

  5. Tess you have a great way with words! I’d have felt exactly as you did. We need a few more Norma Rae’s in the world. I can picture this whole scene and it made me smile ~ which was a good thing today.

  6. Tess, This was most excellent and true! What a writer you are. I get the maam’ thing all the time. I usually ask the young un’ how old they are first. Once I lost it in CVS and loudly proclaimed to all around,” Yup I said 1949. That’s 1949 folks. Not even 1950 but good old 1949. Yup, that’s the day I was born!”

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