One would think a lesson learned once would lead to better decisions, but no. Not always. I need several lessons smacked right up in my face. The sieve that is my brain let the knowledge that wrestling with the kids, while wearing my glasses, can lead to the destruction of the very eye wear I rely on to actually see anything, escape. Without my glasses, Mr. Magoo has better vision.
Last Wednesday, Ace and Giggles decided that tag teaming me in a wrestlefest would be loads of fun. So we wrestled, wrangled, giggled, tickled and fell off the sofa in a heap of laughter. Somewhere in this mess my glasses got twisted and mashed and the frame around the lens snapped in two. I only realized my vision was lopsided when I tried to squirm away from the dog when she waded into the fray to get her licks in, literally. It was something of a struggle to avoid the swipe of slobbery dog tongue with a giggling ten-year-old hanging onto my head. Why the dog always targets me to pick on when this wrestlefest goes on is beyond me. If she were smarter, maybe she’d realize I was the one in need of assistance, not the kids. Anyway, the unfocused dog face and stinky dog breath in my eye made me realize something was amiss.
I’d like to say I was able to grab my spare pair of glasses but this pair, unfortunately, was my spare pair. My other pair was destroyed in an eerily similar wrestling tussle earlier in 2008, which I never bothered to get replaced.
Lesson Learned: Failure. Duh.
I was forced to resort to my contact lenses, which I don’t like very much so don’t wear often but, Thank You whoever is listening, had on hand.
Off I trudged to the optician to see if maybe they could fix my frames or at least refit the lenses in new frames. DENIED. On both counts. My frames were trash, and high time, too, as the Assistant told me they were terribly out of style. Normally I might’ve been offended by that fact, or someone pointing out that fact, but she was funny and personable in a way that made me laugh out loud and like her instantly. Which is saying plenty, as I don’t like anyone immediately. The lenses couldn’t be refit in new frames either, as the focal point would have been out of whack. I would have been walking around cross-eyed in no time. Could be a new look for me, though.
I could point out that I didn’t replace my spare pair because the cost of eyeglasses is freaking astronomical. Completely beyond reasonable. How is it something so vital costs so damn much and most eye insurance plans cover so little? The eyeglass industry is holding us hostage by our very need, people. I say we kick their ass. Ben Franklin would be supremely pissed off.
Sometime between now and whenever the hell they feel like calling me, a new pair of stylish glasses will be mine. Only after surrendering a small fortune. In fact, I might be willing to trade a kid or the goofy dog with the bad breath, if it gets the damn contact lens off my right eyeball sooner. And I will remember to remove these new glasses from my face before going into battle with the kids. Even I can’t be this stupid more than twice. One hopes.
Another disturbing reality in this situation is that my glasses have hidden the bags under my eyes for all these years. Who knew? Even when I took them off at night, I still couldn’t see them, because Hey! blind. But those evil contacts allow me to view them in all their clear unfuzzy glory. I think I prefer the hazy no glasses view I had before.
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