I’ve been wearing glasses since I was 7 years old. Multiply that age by the times my glasses have been changed and you get a Progressive Lens wearer that’s nearly blind as a bat.
Although bats can really see, they use echolocation to find their prey in the dark. Technically, they’re not blind then either, so why do we even say that?
I wish I had echolocation without my glasses, in the dark or in the light. Six inches away from my face and things just become blobs of color
Scott knows all too well because even with my glasses on, I can’t find where I dropped an earring or the remote, and he is enlisted to help me find these things.
Unfortunately, he can’t find the remote either and since he doesn’t leave it in the same place twice, it becomes comparable to a “man hunt.”
Thankfully, I try to leave things like car keys and my cell phone in the same place each time they drop from my hand. I know, one day in the near future, they will be found in the refrigerator, but when I get that forgetful, I will have a “clapper” or whistle device attached the them.
Getting back to being blind. I got in the shower this morning, sans glasses and said to myself, “I need to pick up that blob of hair when I get out.” I toweled off, got dressed, put on my glasses and reached into the shower. It wasn’t a hair ball. It was a roach!
Apparently, I had taken a shower yesterday and today with the rude but extremely clean Blattodea. This may sound quite benign to you but I have two mortal enemies: spiders and roaches. Terrified is a mild word for what I feel for them. I believe I could adjust my name to “Helified” and that would describe my condition.
Scott knows “the scream,” “the look,” “the petrifaction” when I see a roach, a common occurrence living in the South with lots of rain. They migrate in hoards to climb the walls and ceilings just for the pleasure of torturing me. My family knows that the vacuum is the best and only way to securely remove the vermin quickly from sight. Not today.
I had to steel my nerves to use three squares of doubled up Kleenex to throw the disgusting thing into the toilet before the cats realize that I dropped something in it. Heaven forbid if the cats brought it back into the bathroom.
Swoosh. Another one bites the dust.
Note to self: keep glasses on before entering the shower stall. That is all.
May all your showers be insect-less. I’d love to hear about your glasses faux pas, email me at firstname.lastname@example.org.