Cursed

Ever felt like you have a wicked witch mad at you?

Like some green-faced monster is lurking in the dark, , watching as you leap and hurdle the obstacles she throws at you, laughing all the while.

Do I really believe in evil?

You bet.

Witches? Maybe not so much, except this time of year, they do seem more real than they should.

At times, I definitely feel cursed. I find myself checking to make sure I'm not wearing some dead woman's red glittery shoes.

I prefer my own shoes, as uncomfortable as they may be at times.

Except for my crocs. Now the makers of those things were definitely inspired by a wonderful God who knew it would be easier for me to walk the straight and narrow with those comfies on!

But since I was eight years old, my existence has been plagued by a curse.

A curse that prevents me from seeing the world clearly.

A curse that prevents me from ever waking up in the morning with a clear picture of the day ahead.

My world is cloudy.

Foggy.

Blurry.

Fuzzy.

I'm used to it now.

25 years living with it will cause that to happen.

But my eyes are not my own.

My vision belongs to the artificial.

And thank goodness for the artificial.

Otherwise, my road would be very very bumpy.

I wouldn't wish my curse upon anyone.

Well, maybe my worse enemy.

Except, I am not sure I have one of those.

As a mother, I certainly wouldn't want my children to be plagued by the curse.

But that dang witch.

She figures she has done enough to me.

Now it is time to work on my offspring.

I received a phone call from the child's teacher at school, saying the child had failed two vision screenings.

Great, I thought. At least I added the kids to my vision insurance back in July.

I am always on top of things like that.

So, off to Dr. Shockley's we went.

And yes, glasses were indeed needed. The news was not received well by the kid.

Can you guess which kid has inherited my curse?





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Here's to a blurry future, my child.