soooo close to reading glasses. In the morning, when I wake, there's a curious sense of. . . what the. . . why can't I focus? I blink and yawn and squint until things seem a little clearer and then tell myself I must have gotten something in my eye while I slept. . . every night.
My eye doctor, who was a friend of mine, offered me a "mild bifocal" five years ago. I declined. And he is no longer my friend.There is no one in the entire world I would drink turnips for. Not even my son. You are a much better mom than I am. Or perhaps you just have a less finely developed gag reflex.
Love the article! I emailed Bolingbrook Patch and told them we need your column on our patch!
I love this. I am looking forward to imagining every classmate I've ever disliked on a tour bus in Holland.