My Husband's Poor Eyesight

It bodes well for me that my husband is almost blind without his glasses or contacts. This means that not only will I look goo-oo-ood to him well into my eighties, but also that I look damn fine now - naked in bed or prancing up to him in my latest sexy getup. In case you think I'm placing too fine an emphasis on this, let me advise you that although I look fairly fabulous for well over 40 (okay, 50), the body ain't like it used ta be, ya know what I mean?

I was putting my bra on today, as I am wont to do most days - okay, all days. These girls are well past their perky prime - and I noticed that I had reached for a bra with four hooks. Four! I'm not sure how it got into my lingerie drawer, or even how it ended up in a bag on its way home with me. But four hooks?!!!! Four???? The last time I saw a bra with four hooks, my aging grandmother with the ta-tas down to her waist was slinging them into it as she bent over in her altogether. Yes, it's lacy. And a soft, kind of creamy color, and very pretty. But four hooks? And the sad part was that the girls liked it. They sat up nice and high, fit into all parts of the cup, there was little to no spillage out the sides. This was a damn fine bra. But four hooks?

I'm sad to say, I took it off. Maybe no-one will ever see it, including my ocularly challenged husband. But still. It's hard to pretend you're sexy when your girls need the technical equivalent of four hefty men to keep them in shape. As far as I'm concerned, a little droop is a good trade-off. And hell, the husband thinks I look like Cindy Crawford naked. I'm not telling him different.