Every picture tells a story, and this one says:
Once upon a time a man of a certain age noticed things missing, usually letters on the printed page. If the letters didn’t abandon ship completely they tended to shift about or assume shapes diabolically similar to yet deceptively unlike their original form.
The man consulted his wise wife.
“You need reading glasses” she told him sagely, and bought him a pair.
But the very next day, the reading spectacles were gone!
His wise wife bought him several new pairs of glasses and scattered them through the house and vehicle. But what do you suppose happened?
They, too, magically vanished.
One day the wise wife realized that when she read, letters also mysteriously reformed themselves into nebulous hieroglyphics. She bought herself a pair of tasteful and feminine chartreuse colored reading glasses to keep in her purse.
Unbeknownst to the man and his wise wife, in another kingdom the wise wife’s cousin and her good husband were experiencing the same strange malady, the only difference being that her ladylike purse glasses were fuchsia.
One day the wise woman, her wise cousin, and their good husbands met for dinner. The husbands picked up their menus. They squinted. They stretched out their arms till the menus were 52 inches from their eyes. They turned their heads this way and that and patted vainly at empty pockets for evaporated eyewear.
Wise woman’s husband pointed and asked “This can’t possibly be Three Pigs stuffed with Gruvier cheese can it? And is that how you spell Groovier?”
Wise cousin’s husband enquired, “What is Dips Butter?”
Two wise women sighed. They explained Cheese Pies stuffed with Gruyere and Dijon Butter and pulled out their glasses.
Two goodly husbands held out their hands, shamelessly donned the chartreuse and fuchsia glasses respectively and ordered manly red meat dinners.
The moral of the story is:
Behind every near-sighted man is a wise wife who buys fashion glasses to match his coloring.