When asked what colour they were I had replied “chicken broth”. Age 5? Food is always an integral part of my consciousness. Endless menus and food combinations constantly being uploaded, edited and published. Also, so much for my perception of colour. Chicken broth isn’t brown, but then what is the closest colour?

I was told I would never need glasses because I passed the eye test with flying colours… In 198X. Now, my glasses have a perfect combination:

• Astigmatism (so no matter how big my smartphone’s screen is, all I see is fuzzy barcodes without glasses)
• Hypermetropia (walking into hotel showers is a nightmare, which is the shampoo, the conditioner, the body wash?)
• Myopia (I can drive and read the road signs -still having to count the exits in a roundabout, but that has to do with my sense of direction, not sight-, and I don’t wear glasses when I run, can make out what my pace, and more importantly the heart rate is)

But whoever invented progressive lenses must be (if not already there) in Heaven, even St Peter might have benefited from the invention. It is pure 4K Ultrahigh definition vision. I sometimes can’t believe the difference in vision, looking at a plant first without the glasses and then with them. Amazing!

So, the glasses are a key part of my appearance. I don’t leave without them. I’ll grow old, very old, and wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled, and keep adjusting my glasses as I near the time when I meet those nonagenarian neighbours again.

Every now and then I think of having laser treatment and entertain the idea of ditching glasses… Two words come into my mind: Final Destination. I doubt it very much that one is left alone in the doctor’s surgery during the treatment and end up in the pavement with a laser-scorched eyeball popping out of your skull only to be crushed by a car, but I think I’ll stick to glasses… For now. That is except when it rains, I hate it, especially when a vagabond raindrop manages to hit me in the eye, followed by its companions that manage to create a myriad of mini-lenses on my glasses. That’s when a voluntary downgrade to blurry eyesight is in order. I’d rather struggle with my vision than moan about rainy glasses.