Exhausted on saturday night after a barn dance ( yes, strange thing for me to go to even if I was in the country and not in Hackney) my six year old daughter, in the middle of some conversation or other says: 'well, you are a bit mad mummy.' 

'No, I"m not! What on earth do you mean?' I expostulate. 

'She looks at me considering, 'Well, you are lying in bed watching television at night in sunglasses that are tied together with paperclips.' 

I try to explain that they are the only ones I can find that have prescription lenses in them and  I can't afford new ones. She looks at my sadly, 'yes, but you call them your google glasses....'