Optician

So I'm sitting in the optician's chair in the dark.

We've gone through the whole blowing air in my eyes and looking at the hot air balloon rigmarole and now she's turned the light off and is bending down in front of me shining lights in my eyes.

She stands up and informs me that the next part of the test will involve her getting very near to me and not to worry.

I start to worry.

She leans in with the speed of lunging emu and slowly walks around me. She's so close I can smell her skin.

"DON'T LICK THE OPTICIAN!" My brain screams.

"I wasn't even thinking of licking the optician!" I tell it.

"You were." It replies accusingly.

There is a short pause while I try to remember if I was thinking of licking the optician.  I can find no evidence of me ever wanting to put my tongue anywhere near the lady who is still peering into my left pupil.

"Look," I think, "there is no evidence that I was ever thinking of licking this optician"

I perceptibly nod towards her in order to point out to my own brain which optician I'm currently referring to.

"I believe that it was probably you that was thinking about licking the optician."

There is no reply.  I smile to myself knowing that I'm right and in the clear.

The optician has stood up and is looking concerned as I've just nodded towards her and I'm now smiling like a chimpanzee at her left breast.

I think about explaining what happened.

My brain sniggers quietly to itself.