Eye suck

Husband dragged me out of the house today while he went to get an eye test and I decided to get one, too. It had been 12 years since my last one, so I thought it was probably about time.

Plus, I've had 5 days of being cooped up here, barfing up a lung, watching crap day-time TV (not even "Degrassi the Next Generation" could save me) and was getting serious cabin-fever. I even bawled my eyes out yesterday when some chick won the $100,000 showcase on Price is Right. I knew I had to get out.

Matt went in first, so I had time to browse the spec frames. I fell in love with a couple of funky oblong frames with thick(ish) black rims - I flounced in front of the mirror getting all a bit too Diana Prince for the staff's liking, I'm sure. Cabin fever, you know.

I was pumped, I was excited at my new career as a bespectacled temptress.

Husband came out and I went in. The test seemed to be going well until I sealed my fate.

Opt: Can you read the bottom line?
Kink: No. Oh wait, I'll give it a shot. I can see something, E, something, T.
Opt: (stunned silence) Thats, erm, really really good. Amazing actually.

The final verdict?

Opt: You don't need glasses.
Kink: (What? WHAAAAAATTTT?) Huh? Are you sure, not even for reading?
Opt: No. You have excellent vision.

Ah, crap. So while husband picked up a nice pair of super show-off frames, I could only take pride in the Optometrist telling him I kicked his arse.

But I did take a longing last backward-glance at my gorgeous frames...