Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You

"Do you really think that's normal?" asked my mother as I held the newspaper a full arm's length away from my face.

"Do you really think you're in a position to be talking about normal?" I replied.

My mother turned to the Lovely Bride and said, "He needs his eyes checked."

"He needs a lot of things checked," said the Lovely Bride.

"Hey, you told me not to worry, that it happens to everyone once in a while," I said.

The Lovely Bride blushed. My mother shook her head in disgust and went downstairs to talk to her grandchildren. I returned my attention to the newspaper. Victory was mine.

In the battle, though, not the war. Hence, tomorrow I'll be getting an eye exam. Because, you know, I haven't spent enough money on medical bills in the last few months. Anyway, I've been getting ready.

"They told me to bring a list of my medications," I said to the Lovely Bride. "Should I put down 'bourbon?'"

"You're not supposed to be drinking bourbon."

"But if I put it down and he doesn't say anything, then I'll have doctor approval."

"He's an optometrist, not a cardiologist."

"Well, my cardiologist said I could have a drink once in a while."

"I know," said the Lovely Bride. "I was there."

Which is why that conversation hadn't turned out as well as I'd hoped.

"So it's alright to have an occasional drink?" I'd asked at the end of my last cardiology visit.

"Sure," he'd said. "Almost anything's alright, as long as it's in moderation."

The Lovely Bride had rolled her eyes. "Doctor, could you define 'moderation?' My husband has a much different understanding of the word than most people."

Leaving me here, several months down the road, trying to find a loophole.

"I've heard liquor's good for your eyes," I told the Lovely Bride.

"Where did you hear that?"

"From my friend R."

"That's ridiculous."

"You're only saying that because you didn't think of it first. The status quo fears genius."

"I'm the status quo, now, am I?" she snapped.

Whoops. "Yes, but you're a beautiful status quo," I told her. I smooched her neck.

"Stop it," she said, swatting at me. I smooched her neck again.

"You don't need bourbon. You're already drunk." she said.

"Drunk on my love for you," I said.

"Oh, please."

"I don't need my eyes checked. I can see you're a vision of loveliness."

She giggled.

Victory was mine.