In the Eyes of the Beholder

Yesterday afternoon Farmer John and I were riding down the road in his pickup.  We had both passenger windows rolled down, and the dusty cross-ventilation was whipping my Loreal #7A hair into tufts of windblown frizz.  I'd tried my hand at moving cattle panels with some success, but had worked up an unladylike sweat in the process.


He looked over at me, then reached out and patted my hand.  "You know," he said fondly, "you are my trophy wife."


I laughed.  "Trophy wives are young," I said.


"That's what I mean," he replied.  "You look young." 


This proves several things:

1. Near vision deteriorates with age (he wasn't wearing his bifocals).  
2. "Nevah, nevah, nevah give up!"  (Quote attributed to Winston Churchill, though I don't believe he was talking about a 57-year-old woman's quest to remain attractive despite crow's feet and a double chin). 
3. Growing old together might not be as bad as I thought.