One pair on my bedside table. Ummmm.
Yep, that’s the only pair I can find during a quick walk-through. Five pairs are missing in action. The problem is, I just don’t know where to look for them anymore. Used to be I slung ‘em off and they’d end up in plain sight, or I’d hear them as they clattered on the kitchen counter, on my desk, on the floor. You know, the usual places. Now, as my sight and hearing dwindle, my naughty readers are successfully eluding me. They could be anywhere…seriously!
A few weeks ago, a pair appeared in my oven. Obviously, I was in my usual kitchen panic mode (I have no business in that room) and didn’t hear the glasses fall from their precarious perch on my shirt. By the time I happened to smell them (at least that sense is still intact) days later, the plastic nose pieces resembled angry parenthesis and the lenses looked like concave lima beans pulling away from the frame. (Of course, I had to locate another pair of readers to peer into the oven to see. Thankfully, my head deep in the oven, the heat didn’t meld my mascared lashes together until I’d recognized the baked readers.)
Of course, I still have my resources, should I lose this last pair before a quick trip to Walgreens: a box of ill-treated readers that aren’t quite scratched enough or broken enough to be thrown away.
That’s okay. I just won’t be able to take them out in public. Uh oh. that means no trips to the bookstore or library (no way I can read), no restaurant dates with friends (ditto; even the food photos will be blurry), no nothing until I purchase a replacement pair. When did my life become dependent on readers? Aaarghhh!
So, where to look next? Washing machine? Garbage disposal? I’m at a loss. Any ideas? Where do your readers hide?