A Medical Condition Of The Middle-Aged

My husband was propped in bed for the evening when I posed this somewhat philosophical question.  “Hun, do you think I have a medical condition that causes all this…this…”

Hubby-Poo set aside his science magazine, sighed wearily, and looked over his reading glasses at me.  “This what?”

“This.”  I poked at my knees.  “My knees are wrinkly, and I have this going on.”  I tapped both cheeks.  “You know…this…I don’t even want to say it.”

My husband didn’t say a word. He simply continued to peer at me over the top of his reading glasses.

“You know…all this wrinkly stuff.  Do you think it’s a medical condition?”

“Yeah, it’s called Shar Pei-ism,” he nonchalantly said, then promptly went back to reading his magazine.

I draped myself over the edge of the bed, allowing my toes to rest on the floor as I propped myself on my elbows and gazed at him.

“Seriously, hun, it all seems to be happening too fast, like there’s something wrong with me.”

He grunted and kept his eyes on his magazine.

“I’m abnormal, or something.”

“Yes, you are definitely that,” he agreed, his eyes still on his magazine.  “Actually, it’s reassuring that you noticed that.”

I lay on my belly, reflecting over the past few years.  “You know.  Something else recently occurred to me.  My eyesight is not what it used to be.  So, if I think I look bad…without looking at myself through reading glasses…then I must look a whole lot worse than I think I do.  I mean, the reality is clouded by my poor vision, so I must be really icky old.”

Hubby-Poo grunted.

I stared at him for a long time.  He stared at his magazine for a long time. 

“Well, at least I’m not alone.  Mooch has Shar Pei-ism, too.”

My husband stared at his magazine more earnestly.

“Did I tell you that I just spent seven thousand dollars at the mall?”  I was trying desperately to see if he was even listening to me. 

Hubby-Poo stared at his magazine.

“I’d buy that if you actually turned the page once in awhile,” I mused.

A grin broke over his face.

“S**thead,” I muttered.  “I’m being serious here.  I think I have a medical condition that’s making me look wrinkly faster than I should be looking wrinkly.”

“Hun, we all have a medical condition that makes us look wrinkly faster than we want to look wrinkly.  The important thing is: I still love you.   Now shut up and get in bed.”

Copyright 2008  C. D. Blizzard    www.cdblizzard.com

C. D. Blizzard is the author of the novels Blackwater, Broken, and Profile