Ruffled Feathers

I like to think I am aging gracefully. The truth of the matter, like most woman, I am kicking and screaming the whole way. I spend my time and money trying to find new ways to fool mother nature. Some (like hair dye) are successful, others (hot pants) are not quite as helpful.

In an effort to look sophisticated and scholarly, I recently purchased a new pair of eyeglasses. I usually wear contacts, but I am becoming increasingly lazy as of late. I seem to be spending inordinate amounts of time picking my nose.

I proudly wore them last night for the first time. I was giddy with excitement, waiting for the hubs to see me and be bowled over by my new found sexiness. However, fantasy is always better than reality.

Me: "Well Boo, do you like my new glasses?" (All the while thinking I shouldn't have had to ask.)

Hubs: "The important thing is do you like your new glasses?"

Me (also known as the Redneck Fool): "That's not what I asked. Don't avoid the question. Say something, I promise I won't get mad." (Also known as a wife blatantly lying.)

Hubs: "Mom always told me if I have nothing nice to say to keep my mouth shut. I am choosing to heed her wisdom."

Let's just say my dear hubs is still picking feathers out of his teeth from the pillow I crammed in his mouth. And yes, I do like my glasses, thank you very much. Even if he doesn't.