Monday, November 15, 2010

Two Bottles.

When I was a kid, my first day in nursery school I had a wooden block thrown in my eye. I required surgery, and for a time I wore glasses. Since then, perhaps, I've associated glasses with a certain vulnerability, and on occasion empathized  an inordinate amount with those who wear them.

My wife wears contacts, but at night, reading in bed, she switches to her glasses. Without them her eyesight is poor...but when she wears them, unfailingly I am moved to great tenderness for her. My lovely wife. 

No comments: