I remember seeing a cartoon many years ago, about a shortsighted mole. Every day he went out to play, and rushed to see his wonderful fairy castle. It towered skywards, glistening, shimmering, bejewelled. He was enraptured. One day a salesman came around selling spectacles and tested the little mole's eyes. He fitted him with some glasses and the next morning the little chap was eager to see his fairy castle, expecting that it would look better than ever through his new specs. When he got there, full of anticipation, it turned out to be... a pile of junk. Old tin cans and rubbish, piled high, occasionally glinting in the sunlight. Our little mole was heartbroken. His disappointment was etched in my mind, and I never forgot that cartoon, which, by the way, ended happily as he lost his glasses and his fairy castle came back.
Why am I thinking about this now? On Friday evening I was getting ready to go out, and looked in the mirror; I was not looking too bad, though I'm usually self-critical. Not bad at all. One last thing- put glasses on. Eugh! These glasses really don't suit me, they make my face look different. I looked ok without them! I take them off. There you are- look fine. Put them on, look awful. These glasses really have a strange effect on me, they make my face look all old and.......oh. You know what was happening, don't you? That's why I thought of the little mole, his fairy castle, and the pile of junk.