Eye Eye!

in #life7 years ago

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My eyes were dreadfully itchy when I woke up this morning. I staggered into the bathroom and examined myself in the mirror. Before me was a fine figure of a man. I scooched closer to look at my eyes. They were bloodshot and sore looking.

Can't be hangover eyes? I thought. I didn't actually drink that much last night.

I looked at them again. It was like looking at a pair of well-chewed dog's testicles. Or to say the phrase in proper Glasgwegian.

My eyes were like dug's baws.

How quaint, my mother tongue.

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I came downstairs to my loving family. They were pottering about as if I didn't have some kind of emergency eye situation going on.

Hello?

I greeted them.

Morning Daddy bear.

They all chorused as if they couldn't give two hoots for the medical emergency that was going on, live, in their very own home.

I made my way to the sofa and collapsed in it with a groan. No-one ran to my aid. I whimpered slightly. No-one noticed.

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I jerked upright and yelled incoherently.

My daughter looked over.

Daddy, sshh. I am trying to play.

My eyes. My beautiful eyes!

I burbled, thrashing from side to side.

The good lady looked up from her phone.

Look at the state of your eyes? You should go to the pharmacist.

I stopped thrashing about and opened one of my crusty red orbs.

Yes, yes I must.

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And so I found myself in the nearest supermarket that had an in-store Pharmacist. Standing before a sullen looking woman.

How can I help you today?

She drawled at me.

I opened my crablike peepers.

Could I have some eye drops for my eyes, please? I think I have some kind of infection.

At the merest hint of self-diagnosis, the woman's hackles raised visibly. She metaphorically paced around me, growling menacingly, rope-like saliva dripping from her jaws.

What makes you think they are infected?

She narked through flared nostrils.

They are hot and itchy and red and bloodshot.

She looked cross. As if I had wrapped a red ribbon around my penis and had presented it to her as a belated Valentine.

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Do you have any discharge?

Now it was my turn to look offended. Discharge? What did I look like? A man who slaps his roaring thomas into any old random?

She sighed dramatically.

From your eyes.

Yes, lots of yellow gooky mook.

What about pain?

Only from this conversation.

I beg your pardon?

Nothing. No, no pain.

She put her hand on her hip and looked at me waspishly. Fortunately, the itchy gyp from my eyes prevented me from getting a semi. She retrieved a box from a shelf behind her and plopped it on the counter.

Alright then, I suppose you can have these.

Well, thank you very much my lovely.

She flinched. Obviously unused to a man as handsome as me referring to her as lovely.

I paid for the drops and as I left I tried to wink at her but instead, due to my eyes, I just looked like an ill, crusty faced dog trying to catch a fly in its mouth.

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I returned home, happy at the thought of being reunited with my loving family who would no doubt nurture me and care for me through the course of my terrible eye affliction.

I put my eye drops in and limped pathetically into the living room. No-one noticed me enter. I threw myself on to the Sofa and muttered something about resting my eyes. No-one asked how I was or where I had been for nearly an hour.

I got eye drops.

I said to the room.

That's good dear, can you take the bins out?

The good lady murmured whilst reading her Kindle.

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What? Is this how a soldier is treated upon return from a victorious battle? Is this how a dragon pup is celebrated upon making it's first kill and returning to the nest? IS THIS WHAT BEING A MAN IS LIKE IN THE 21ST CENTURY??

Aye, I'll take your bins out.

I muttered darkly.

No-one noticed as I grumped from the room.

Sort:  

Ooh, my goodness You had a very hard battle today...I can see you felt like Napoleon in front of Moscow, frozen 😷 and unprotected...😜.
Actually, after many pains it was not so bad for You as for Napoleon. He lost and left his soldiers stuck with snow in Russia and You still returned safely at home😎😎😎.

That is very true, I got home relatively unscathed!

Now all I need is for my eyes to go back to normal and return to my soldiers in Russia! :OD

🤔🤔🤔

HEhe, alright then. Just the eyes :O)

It has been scientificly proven that men do suffer way more when they've have an ailment of any kind. Yes, near death experiences are very common to us when we experience any type of discomfort. It is tough to be a man in pain, with the other half of humanity not understanding. It is a burdon we have to carry, just like we carry the trash bins out, no matter what.

A heavy heavy burden. Like the ox, I carry it, along with my tribe of man.

You know what they say about near death experiences! Means you are still alive!! :OD

The world will only hear the deafening silence of our suffering, mac fir.

Yes, that is the bright side of it. :-)

A deafening but happy silence! :O)

Perhaps because of this, men write the most beautiful poems
suffer

And because of those poems we make others suffer too ;O)

And then there's that too.

Through suffering it is where art is born.

poet @meesterboom :)
Vincent Van Gogh had red beards
@ meesterboon has red eyes :D

I think it's contagious. My eyes are burning now. These aren't tears of joy, though I was able to laugh at a few things you said here today. It's some kind of liquid though, that part I know for sure. It's running down my face and coming close to my mouth. I'm afraid to taste it. If it's burning my eyes; will it be spicy?

If it is burning your eyes it will msot definitely be spicy but perhaps not good spicy but that kind of arse spicy that you do not want on your face.

What to do? Quick, smear beef paste over your face and find a dog!

I found a dog but now some lady is banging on my door and calling me a kidnapper! Quick! What do I do now! What's the next step! The dog didn't come with directions!

This bit is easy - throw the dead dog out of the window and shout to the lady that you don't have her damned dog!

Make a note yourself for next Sat night.print out some signs ' I am ill', Use at least 72 print so it can be seen, glue the sign to a piece of cardboard, sew the cardboard to the front of a beanie ready for next Sun morning/ afternoon.
Then when you make the grand entry, with the dressing gown flaring like a cloak, sign on your head, collapsing into your favourite chair even Little Boom will know you are suffering.
P.S. put the garbage out Sat night while the beer is keeping the cold at bay.

You really know my style. That is exactly how I enter the room, my dressing gown flaring out like a cloak!

I am thinking of putting the bins out on a Saturday night lol!

MEN!!

HAHhhahhahahaahhahaahah!!

:OD

Ok, so lesson learned... I am not going to read anymore of your posts near any sleeping children!

I quite literally laughed, no, chorted, out loud and nearly woke a sleeping toddler! Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?!?

Of course you do, you're a dad, but I have 4 kids, 3 of which require my attention to get to that peaceful dream state. Well, let me rephrase that, they get to sleep so that I can have some peace.

In any case, with all the heaviness we parents have to deal with daily, and keeping our sweet bubbly tones and watch our mouths, a bit of humor is just what maintains our sanity sometimes, and you, dear sir, deliver like clockwork. Hilarious!

Aw thank you very much. That's a lovely comment. I find that it is the only way to get through it all, with a bit of humour!

I don't know about Glasweigioland but on this side of the pond we have something called Occulear... it's an eyewash that feels nearly orgasmic (although in my advanced years that's a fond and murky memory)

Orgasms eh! I have never heard of it over hear but if I ever see it I am buying a crate!

I got an offer of one 50% off... I asked which half and she said "the first," which was little help to me!

That's a head messer right there!

Apparently dear friend @meesterboom his wife is a very good oculist, found the remedy to the disease of his eyes, "go to take out the trash cans, with a little fresh air will cure your tear ducts.
It is so dear friend, men of the cas we can not get sick.
I hope that at this moment I have already found a relief for your sight
I wish you a happy rest

You are right, she is a medicine woman. This will mean great advances for 21st century medicine!

I must patent it! :O)

Oh my....you should find a more caring family....you have it rough at work and at home. The good lady probably knew about the vomit too the other day and did not tell you...the universe is against you my friend. You should call uncle Boom for assistance!

I think he might come a calling even if I dont call him!! :OD

Quick! Call Uncle Boom! He'll know what to do with the unsympathetic family.

I fear his attention might be a little overkill

:O)