The Eye Doctor

"You must keep your bottom tightly blindfolded tightly at all times," the eye doctor cautioned.

"What about my posterior?" I asked indignantly.

"The bottom of your eyes," he replied, "You must protect them from Let There Be Light."

"Oh!" I exclaimed.

"Or you can easily get a hernia," the oculist cautioned.

"You mean in my eyeballs?" I asked surprised.

"There is no alternative," he said nodding his head.

"What absurd nonsense!" I exclaimed.

"Caution is the Mother of Invention," he replied, "You must protect your bottom at all times."

"Will I have to use black spectacles like the visually challenged?" I moaned.

"Everything is a challenge, just imagine what would happen if your bottom played blind man's buff!"

"I would lose my hindsight," I conceded.

"And your hind can get pinched by pickpockets," he warned.

"What earthly use will they have for my behind?" I asked gawking.

"They will sell it off in the black market," he replied.

"I thought they sold off cadavers," I objected.

"Yes, but then they would have to dig up graves after five minutes past midnight," he pointed out.

"That would be a very grave matter," I said concerned.

"They would get to the very bottom of the grave if needed," he said.

"For bottoms with hindsight must be," I said eagerly.

"But it is easier to get them on the black-market," he said.

"They must be blackguards," I said hotly.

"They are certainly not the Coast Guard," the oculist said.

"Wouldn't that be a tall order asking behinds to watch if the coast was clear?"

"That's exactly what hindsight is all about," he said slapping my left thigh enthusiastically.

"Ouch! Is it with or without a blindfold?" I asked massaging my thigh.

"You must not massage your left thigh too much," he said.

"Why?"

"Because your right thigh might take offence," he explained.

"I could blindfold it," I said.

"It's not like eyes in the back of the head," he remonstrated.

"Do you have eyes in the back of the head?" I asked astounded, "It's not normally found there, or in the behind!"

"You already told me that you have hindsight," he reminded me, "Now stick out your tongue and read the eye chart."

"You should have put up a pie chart instead," I remarked.

"I can't have my thumb in too many pies," he confessed.

"Do you thumb your pies?" I asked surprised.

"I also thumb my nose," he said.

 "When you play Little Jack Horner?"

"Yes, when I corner my clients into paying my astounding bills," he remarked.

"You astound?"

"By the pound," he replied.

"You believe in pound sterling?" I asked.

"Also in dollars for those able to pay," he replied with a sly smile.

"You don't accept pennies do you?" I asked.

"Not even if you came riding a penny farthing," the oculist said.

"I don't have a penny!" I exclaimed.

"That's when the nickel drops," he said airily, "Let me give you some eye drops, it's a soothing balm."

"I don't need soothing," I replied crossly, "just get on with your pie chart."

"So you too have your finger in many pies?"

"Yes," I said, "that's why I'm here."

"How is that?" he asked.

"I can't see the pies properly," I replied.

"Actually you should spy on them," he suggested.

"Should I use a binocular?"

"That would be too far-fetched, now stick out your tongue and open your mouth wide," he commanded.

"Why should I do that?" I queried.

"I want to see if you a cross-eyed," the oculist said.

"I can tell my right hand from my left knee," I replied.

"They all say so," he commented, "Do you smoke?"

"One or two daily," I said coming clean.

"Can you make smoke rings with your eyes?" he questioned.

I shook my head. "I can't."

"Just as I thought, you are plainly short-sighted! Say aah and read the letters on the wall," he directed.

"Ah! So you write letters on walls, it must save you postage," I said.

"Quite a sum," he said haughtily.

"I was always weak in sums," I confided.

 "Were you also weak in the head before your eyesight turned weak?"

"They don't tell me anything," I moaned.

"Who tells you?"

"The men in white coats who say that I need a straitjacket," I whimpered.

"You can't wear a crooked jacket, can you?" he countered.

"I don't know," I groaned.

"I forget that you are myopic, now tell me how many fingers you see?" he said sticking out his thumb.

"That finger is a Lilliput!" I exclaimed.

"I knew that you can't tell the difference between Lilliput and Gulliver," he said stroking his nose."

"Can you differentiate between a baboon and Mickey Mouse?"

"I can't tell the difference between an orangutan and Gulliver," I confessed.

"I can't recommend glasses for you," the oculist sighed.

"I only have a glass or two except when I see double," I protested.

"You should have told me before that you see double!" he exclaimed.

"Why?"

"I am doubling your fees," he said happily.

 "I won't need glasses?" I asked bewildered.

"Just a keg or two will do," he said.

"But I don't like being sozzled!"

"When you can see your bottom plainly," the oculist replied, "you won't need to blindfold it, just sing a lullaby or two, recite Little Jack Horner to it and pinch it twice for fame, fortune and luck."