Eye Know

My eyesight is really beginning to fail me. For all too long I have been walking up behind the wrong people and grabbing them, waving at men in strange cars I think I recognise and mistaking inanimate objects for flesh and blood.

Why only the other day I went to great pains to show Wondy Mum my old busstop (look, I'm a bus fanatic, these things are interesting to me) and in true Wondy-style the conversation that followed was thus:

• Me: It's the one where that man in the red coat is standing
• (Silence)
• Wondy Mum: Erm, darling, that's a post box
• (Silence)
• Me: Oh
  
  

I don't suppose this can go on indefinitely. It's only a matter of time before I'm Mr. Magoo in a skirt.

Maybe I secretly like this haze-tinted, soft-focus world of mine. That can be the only explanation for not getting my lily white ass down to Specsavers. Or is it laziness, as with 95% of all my other endeavours?

Hmm.