“Where are my glasses?!”
It’s the constant call in our household.
I’ve never minded wearing glasses. Quite the contrary. I love ‘em. Always have, since the first day I realized that grass comes in separate blades.
Before I went to first grade, the school nurse told my mom I needed glasses. So did my first grade teacher, my second, my third, my fourth. The fifth grade teacher, Miss Bennett, didn’t mess around with telling. She called my dad (serious business in those long ago days, calling dad) and told him that I’d be held back if he didn’t make sure I got glasses. And now.
I loved my new blue frames. Wow! Not only did grass come in separate blades, but Miss Bennett was writing words and numbers on the blackboard, not smudges.
Mother wasn’t being mean on purpose. She thought she was helping me. She’d worn glasses since she’d been tiny, hating them every minute. Although she’d been a ‘college beauty’ and easily conquered my dad, she really believed Dorothy Parker when she said, “Men never make passes at girls who wear glasses.” She thought she was helping me out.
After I finally got my beloved ‘specs, she kept on trying. Every year on school picture day, even for my wedding picture, I got the same command. “Take those glasses off!” I did; although I will add that except for my driver’s license shot—the state of Texas refused to let me keep them on despite my vigorous pleas—I’ve scarcely had picture since my wedding shot that I haven’t had them on. Except when Mother was behind the camera.
It’s getting to be a different story. It’s not that I’ve quit liking my glasses. Not at all. I consider glasses a fashion accessory, and I have several pair. “Which glasses shall I wear with this outfit?” I haven’t changed, but my eyes have.
I succumbed to the inevitable, but I didn’t get bifocals. I’ve got the variable lenses. That should take care of that. The first change was when my dentist told me she has ‘drilling glasses’ that let her have her whole field of vision at the right distance for drilling. Hmmm, thought I. Why not for a computer? ‘Computer glasses’ are now fairly common, but when a decade or more ago I told my optometrist what I wanted, he thought I was nuts. Now my husband has them too. He discovered they are also great in museums. You can look at the picture and at the information at the side without doing tricks to get the right spot on the glasses lined up.
I have astigmatism such that I have trouble reading through my regular glasses. For many years, no problem. Take them off. Now, often that’s not enough. My jokester son, who wears reading glasses himself, says that my arm quit growing. No. My eyes got older. Okay. No problem, I still read most things with my regular ‘specs perched up on my head, but for smaller print? Off to the drugstore for some lowest-power reading glasses. They worked so well I got a pair for the kitchen, and then one for my study, and then one for the bathroom, and then—some menus come in tiny type–one for my handbag. In the midst of this purchasing frenzy, the Houston Chronicle, in maybe an economy move, reduced the size “Doonesbury.” Back to the drugstore for one power stronger glasses. They have a permanent home by my newspaper-reading spot. While I was selecting the “Doonesbury” glasses I noticed some with a tiny light on each side. Perfect for reading in bed, especially when the usually happy couple has different sleep habits. (Bob, who doesn’t use reading glasses, took the lenses out of his since they didn’t come plain.) I read a lot in a neighborhood park, so—reading sunglasses. You get the drift.
Now my usual morning routines are to read the paper without glasses, except for Doonesbury, of course, and then do my morning routines in a glassesless, near-sighted haze. When, finally it’s time to settle down to work (which will involve either the computer or a book) the cry goes out.
“Where are my glasses?!”
Surely, surely, I’m not the only person with ‘lost glasses syndrome.” If you’re a sister sufferer, tell me your tricks! I need help.