It's as predictable as phases of the moon; one by one the eyeglasses disappear from the kitchen table, from my purse, from pockets and computer spaces (which is an oxymoron in itself). We find ourselves saying, 'have you seen my glasses' and the hunt is on. You can almost hear the snickering.
Then one morning you go downstairs and there, on the kitchen table, are two pairs of the things, looking innocent and a bit sweaty, not unlike 4 year old boys who have been out somewhere having forbidden adventures. Back upstairs, aha, there's a pair on the bathroom sink. Two days later my husband says, "I found my computer glasses".
Now it's becoming a conspiracy. The scissors are joining the fun. I have sacrosanct cloth-only scissors that never leave the sewing machine area. I have kitchen scissors that can barely cut butter. This summer all of them have disappeared, one pair at a time, at about the same rate as the eyeglasses. Aha, she says, a bit louder this time.. It is, I found out, virtually impossible to cut felt weatherstripping with a steak knife, nail clippers, or a utility knife, and lord knows I've tried.
Yesterday the first set of eyeglasses surfaced, "right where I left them" a week or more ago. At least, that's what they're implying. This morning, there was the first missing pair of scissors, idling away in the kitchen utensil holder. "You just didn't look hard enough". snrk snrk snrk