Diagnosis: OLD

Basically, that's what my new optometrist, who can't be more than.....oh.... 22....told me after my eye exam this morning.   In her most chipper voice, she told me my vision problems were nothing to worry about, just a part of the normal aging process.   (Oh, thanks, doctor.  I feel so much better. )  

It was at this point, I could have sworn I caught her examining my crows feet and sizing up my age spots with the magnifying glass when she was supposed to be evaluating my retinas.

At any rate, as our visit went on, Dr. Chipper explained that I probably could get away with dime store reading glasses and  wouldn't need bi-focals for another few years....until I'm a little closer to 50.  (She had definitely gotten a good look at my age spots.)

Then....as she waited for my eyes to dilate---and with the sensitivity of a rock---she blathered on and on about my mature eyes, incidental sun exposure and my potential risk of developing glaucoma and cataracts. 

Surely, I thought, my eyesight isn't my only sense that's in decline.   My hearing must be failing me, too.   Was this recent grad of The Doogie Howser School of Optometry actually talking to (forever young and hip)  ME??

My brain fritzed ever-so-briefly and....just for a tiny, little, un-Christ-like nano-second....I saw myself jumping up from the vinyl-clad exam chair, whipping off my disposable sunglasses  and soundly decking her (and her youthful skin and sharp, clear eyes) right then and there.  

Oh......if only I had been able to see her well enough to take good aim.....