Thursday, November 3, 2005


I can't find my glasses anywhere. I've been all over the house, top to bottom. I know I put them in a safe place, somewhere I was sure to be able to find in a rush. Why, then are they gone?

We have bad luck in my house with glasses. Months ago, the lens fell out of my mother's pair.

"Can you see that?" she asked, poking the tiny screw with her fingernail. "I can't even see to put it back in!"

So Laura, the obediant daughter, put the screw in. Then searched for our tiny screwdriver (also in a safe place). Failing to find it, I used a knife from our kitchen and did my best to tighten it

"You'll need to go to the eye doctor," I said. "This is going to fall out again."

But no one listens to me about things of importance. That's why my dad thinks his heart medicine is optional and that acrid smoke pouring of the engine of our van is really no big deal.

A few days passed, I put the lens back in again. Another few days, I did the same. Finally, the other lens fell out, and I put them both back in. Now it was really time to go to the eye doctor.

But we didn't.

Eventually, the lens again fell out. The porcelain of the bathtub ground its smooth surface until use for vision correction was impossible. That pair was thrown away, and Mom fished out another pair of glasses, this one from the eighties, equipped with massive lenses and (as a bonus) the wrong perscription. Dad then bought himself new glasses. Now the lenses of Mom's old pair are falling out. Especially when she leaves them on the sofa and we sit on them. Still no eye doctor.

I have this fear, rising up within me, that my glasses were left under the wheel of a moving car, or on the floor of one of my classrooms in the Ad. building. Maybe they were in a bag of trash scooped off of my floor, like my retainer was all those years ago, and now they reside at the county dump. My flawless contacts feel as if they grate against my eyes, warning me that I could need those glasses at any moment.

What happened to me? I never lose anything! Within the last ten years, I can remember losing only two things: my retainer (which Mom threw away) and my Borders gift card (which may be in Italy). I even remember where other people put things so that their belongings aren't lost forever. That's just how reliable I am. So where are the glasses?

Look, if you're reading this, they're in a navy blue case. Open it up, and the pseudo-velvet lining stays closed. The not-quite-fixative is a muddy yellow color. If you see them, let me know. Because when I lose things, it isn't just a little deal. No, these glasses could be in China by now--I don't know. They may have been adopted by a kind Sudanese couple. They could be helping National Geographic catalogue the Amazon. We still haven't found that stuffed rabbit I lost when I was four! I don't want my glasses ending up on the Island of Misfit Toys from that Christmas movie.

Remember, a navy blue case.

Navy blue.

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