There are many things that signify the onset of the aging process, most of which at one point or another in this blog I have bemoaned ad nauseam. Creaky joints, flappy bits, spare tires, hot flashes, gas, sleeplessness. But today I bought a magnifying glass. Dear G-d, a magnifying glass!! I bought it under the pretense of my husband using it to find the one penny that will make us rich, but truthfully, I spend way to much time squinting and squirming so I can see the color of the lip gloss I’ve been wearing since Frankenstein was in diapers. My arms are not long enough to see the instructions on pill bottles and the fine print on anything? Nope. Can’t do it. I have endured some right of passage that involves eyeglasses on a chain around my neck, spare medications in my purse and Kleenex stuffed up my sleeve. As I navigate this part of life, I ask only this. If I ever turn up the heat, pinch your cheek, or hold a tissue up to your face and say “blow”, you have my permission to kill me.