(Previously published in the Franklin Township Informer)
I broke my prescription glasses not long ago with the result being I had to take them back for repairs. The particular company from who I bought these glasses told me they would have to send them off to some out of the way place (probably Antarctica) for the required attention and I would be without glasses for some two to three weeks. I had not had the foresight to buy a second pair of prescription glasses for just such an occasion so was compelled to buy an off the shelf set of reading glasses.
It is two weeks now since my good glasses were shipped off to who knows where and I have had no end of challenges finding my way about. Either I do not recognize somebody altogether or I address them with a name not their own. People who do not know my predicament have questioned my health and, quite possibly, my reason. I have noticed more than one questioning stare.
Part of my coping mechanism in this time of ophthalmological strife is to slide my off the shelf glasses onto my forehead when the situation requires it. Such are the condition of my eyes sans prescription glasses that I slide them up and down my forehead with alarming frequency.
The story is now told of dinner this very night. My wife and I were enjoying a wonderful dinner (teriyaki steak I believe it was), with our eldest son and his soon to be bride. During the course of our meal, my son inquired as to the projected return of my prescription glasses. In answering him, I gave a brief dissertation regarding the toil and strife I had endured with the store bought glasses. He listened with the empathy required of all sons and finally asked just where the store bought glasses could be found at that moment. I thought that an odd question as I pointed to the spot on my head where they reside when not implanted on my nose. He asked a second time where my glasses were and, again, I pointed to their assigned spot on my forehead. The third inquiry, this time from my wife, brought up no small degree of irritation as I reached up to grab my glasses and settle the matter once and for all.
They were not there.
Funny how the little guy in one’s head can do and think up stuff real quick and this time was no exception. He pointed out to me that they were lying on the table next to my fork. I had just enough time to make a joke out of it as if to say I had planned that little trick and knew they were there all along.
Time will tell whether I got away with it.
A Commoner's Life ™ 