An Open Note to My Husband:
I'm sorry, honey. I love you very much, and I'm always up for some hot loving, but I can no longer sleep with you if you insist on wearing those glasses.
Do you guys know what BC glasses are? They are the glasses that the military issues to it's members. The BC stands for Birth Control because there ain't no way you're gettin' laid if you wear these monstrosities on your face.
Think big black-framed lenses. Hot? Not.
About ten years ago, we dropped a major load of cash on some really nice designer frames that brought out the deep brown in his eyes. But I think he lost those on his last deployment.
And a couple of years ago he got some QoL oval framed glasses from the base optometrist. The QoL stands for Quality of Life because they were supposed to improve yours once you retired the hideous black-framed numbers. They weren't so great, but they were okay. He lost them last month.
For a month he has been wearing the most ridiculous pair of glasses you have ever seen in your life. They are seriously capable of stealing away the libido of the opposite sex. But he could care a less. Even though they are so old they barely help his eyesight, he wears them with pride!
I can't take it anymore. He's got to get some new glasses. I can't send him to Iraq looking like a bald Woody Allen. Oh, yeah, and then there is that whole thing about better being able to shoot the bad guys who are shooting at you if you can actually see them.
I know he'll be well-equipped when he sets out into the desert, but there are two things I want him to have. Glasses so he can see, and a desert-print flak jacket so he can't be seen.
I don't think that's too much to ask.