Of Old Age and ....uh....I Can't Remember

It's official: I am now Old. Having achieved the fine old age of forty-mumble years a couple of months ago, my decrepitude has now achieved the state where I NEED READING GLASSES. Are you kidding me? Me? Me, in whom that youthful state of rebellion and sarcasm continues unabated? Surely not. Sigh. I thought I would be spared. But no.
However, I have not sunk so far that I got a pair of run-of-the-mill reading glasses, available at your corner Walmart. No. I have a fabulous pair of violet and aqua ones. And I look hot in them, too. So my faithful hubby says.
I'm hoping someone has made some Harry Potter style reading glasses. I think that would be hysterical. Then I could get a lightning bolt tattoo on my forehead. I wonder if they'd still let me teach Sunday School?