My childhood was kind of a blur, to tell you the truth. I needed better glasses.

A compact example of Wendy Liebman’s observational, self-deprecating one-liner style, the joke pivots on a literal re-reading of a familiar phrase. “My childhood was kind of a blur” is a common way to describe hazy memory or emotional distance; the punchline (“I needed better glasses”) abruptly reframes “blur” as a physical vision problem. The humor comes from the sudden shift from psychological autobiography to mundane optics, undercutting any expectation of confessional depth. It also lightly satirizes the way people narrate their pasts with grand, vague language, suggesting that sometimes the simplest explanation—poor eyesight—fits better than a dramatic story.