Can menopause be that far behind?

So I went to Target today. I needed body soap and lotion, laundry detergent, and greeting cards for various upcoming celebrations. As I wandered through the aisles I came across reading glasses. Ha ha ha ha, I don't need those. So what if I have to hold some papers as far from my face as possible as I rotate the paper looking for just the right angle of visibility? That means nothing other than there's something wrong with the light. Anyhow. Just for fun I "put [my] toes up against the bottom shelf and read the lines." Um. +1.50, whatever that means. It's amazing what I'm not actually seeing up close.

As I stood there contemplating the fading of the bloom off the rose, the female expiration date, the Autumn of my life, I noticed the Depends and the various creams, lotions, and potions meant to ease the discomfort of old age right next to the glasses. Ugh. I had to turn and look away.

Right across from all this? Ribbed condoms. KY. Enhanced for her pleasure. Trojans. And all sorts of similar stuff. Rows and rows of it. Really? Couldn't they come up with better placement for either of these stage of life products? It was all rather depressing and ironic and satiric and funny and sad all at the same time.

But I gave in and bought the glasses. They're red with tiger stripes. Enhanced for my pleasure.