Beer googles. Rose tinted glasses. But what about Rosé tinted goggles??
Through my Rosé tinted glasses my husband’s ass looked just as good in red as it did over 20 years ago in grey.
Through my Rosé tinted glasses my kids were awesome! Fearless! Red run schussing, snow heap hilarity.
Through my Rosé tinted glasses we were as cool as the 20 and 30 year olds in el ‘Pano with all the French students.
Through my Rosé tinted glasses I was the Ferrari in the downhill final slush descent to resort.. slick and swift and weaving in between the snow plow traffic.
But when the Rosé wears off, I am just a 41 year old in the shower who is the complete opposite of the last 4 years’ competition: short haired, flat chested, no arse, British, hard working, prudish, motherly, energetic, loving, abundant and innocent.
The hardest thing in all of this is the dichotomy. Knowing I need to fill the badger book with all the good things, great new memories…. and the silent undertones and ghosts of the past.
I have been wearing rose tinted glasses and seeing only the best and got stung. And now Rosé tinted glasses distort the truth by numbing it for a short while.
Rosé tinted glasses. Fun while they are on. When they come off reality hits and there is no where to run or ski. Exactly what I was scared of as I leapt up on to this next step, next love rock….
Perhaps tomorrow I will stick to the Perrier. And then I can get back to living In the moment and seeing the truth: That I am in the sun, amongst the mountains and with the 3 people I love most and the 3 people who love me most.