My hate relationship with my pair of eye glasses

My hate relationship with my pair of eye glasses

Saturday, October 29, 2016 10:44 am


Olufunke Phillips

Olufunke Phillips

By Olufunke Phillips

I’ve worn glasses since I was nine years old. You see, I’m hopeless without them. I can’t see and everything is blurry without them.

I have photophobia and suffer from acute myopia so while I don’t want to wear glasses, I have to wear them. I tried contact lenses but it was a short lived affair. Very short. I got the contact in my right eye quite alright. The problem started when I tried to fix in the one for the left eye. My eyelid refused to cooperate. The thing was just fluttering rapidly like the wings of a butterfly in the throes of death. It was disconcerting.

I see people popping contacts in and out of their eyes like no man’s business. Why was my own case different? Why was my left eye acting so childish? I didn’t get it. By the time I was tired, my eyes were red and swollen, I had shed real tears and the blasted contact lens wasn’t yet in. It was a traumatic experience. I gave up and crawled back to my reliable glasses.

I decided that since I was stuck with glasses, I’d make the best of the situation. I have about 20 pairs scattered everywhere. I’ve got two beside the bed. I’ve got two in the office. I’ve got one in the glove compartment. I’ve got one in the bathroom. I’ve got one in the kitchen. I’ve got one on the bookshelf. I’ve even got one in the fridge. I buy really fancy frames just to put my prescription lenses in them. I’ve got frames in different colours…so I can colour-coordinate with my nail polish. Then I have the frames for Tamera to break anyhow. Even my sunshades are prescription glasses. They’re not for shakara. Well, sometimes they are but you get what I mean.

So you can imagine how annoying it is when I’m all ready to step out of the house and I can’t find my glasses.

The most scary question I can ever ask in my house is “Where are my glasses?”

Everyone knows this is code for “Stop whatever the hell you people think you’re doing and look for it. Don’t even breath till you find them”

So everybody starts searching, throwing cushions off, tossing pillows around, bending down to check under tables, even opening up pots (One time they found it in there. Don’t ask how it got there), checking bags etc.

While the search is going on, I’m emitting a litany of complaints. “OH GOD. WHERE IS MY PAIR OF GLASSES FOR GOODNESS SAKE? WHY CAN’T I LEAVE SOMETHING AND MEET IT WHERE I LEFT IT? I’M LATE GUYS. FIND MY GLASSES!”

Then someone triumphantly shouts “I’ve found it!”

I look at the ‘found’ glasses… “Not this one. The blue one”

“But…but…this is blue”

“Not this blue. The sky blue one with the tinted lenses. This one is bankers blue”

“What is bankers blue?”

“The blue that bankers like to…what is all these questions? Go and find my glasses my friend’

And they continue searching, while I sit down, open a coke and continue complaining. “YOU THESE CHILDREN. YOU BETTER FIND MY GLASSES. IT’S NOT EVEN FUNNY. HABA! WHAT IS THIS NA?”

They bring out all the pairs from their different location but that’s not the particular pair I’m looking for so they keep searching.

Until someone says “Mummy, what’s that in your pocket?”

“Car keys”

“No. Your car keys are on the table. What’s in your pocket?”

So I put my hand in my pocket and pull out my blue glasses.

“Who put my glasses in my pocket?”

They shake their heads, roll their eyes and give me ‘Really? Seriously? ” looks.

Anyway, when I turn 40, I will give myself a special birthday gift. I’m also going to add laser treatment to that list so I can be done with glasses forever.

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