Saturday, August 6, 2016

First, the eyeglasses; then the scissors (6WS)

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


  1. I'd like to say I've BEEN there, but I AM.

  2. It is kind of a revolving door, isn't it, a lot like trying to make the peas and the potatoes come out even by the end of dinner.

    And then the pencils and pens get in on the act, but you need your glasses to find the pen, any pen, and even if you find one by sheer accident what good is it if you still havent found your glasses...

  3. I have a special pair of snips for my yarn, and hate it when they are "borrowed" or missing.

  4. I regularly buy new scissors for fabric only, and new glasses for reading, but this is a big house and they do have a way of getting lost under the hat, the pillow, the couch cushions, or my cat (who likes to chew on the temple pieces)...

    And for that reason when it comes to scissors I would rather buy two or three decent but not terribly expensive scissors because soon enough Ill find Someone Cutting Paper with them. Horrors.

  5. I have one of those despairing resolves that one day I will get All The Scissors in one place at one time then putting them where they should be. That deployment is far off. Small home but on three floors defeats this resolve.

    And there's only me and the cats. I bet they cut paper dolls at night with the good fabric scissors, and poke features in them with the six pairs of embroidery scissors of which five are missing.

  6. You forgot the Dollivers. You know what they're like.

  7. I have many pairs of reading glasses (9). I keep some in a basket in my upstairs bathroom, a couple on my bedside table, and some on the counter in the kitchen. Oh yes, there is usually one in my purse. I can never find the ones downstairs when I need them and someone always moves the ones in my bedroom. Those in the bathroom are old and of a lesser strength so too many times I have to go out to the garage and look in my car for my reader sunglasses so I can read the instructions on how to open a container of aspirin. The next day I have to look for the sunglasses.

  8. I'm laughing, but nodding in deep sympathy too. I had forgotten about the purse glasses which often turn into the "oh wait they're out in the car" glasses.
    I grew up terribly nearsighted and needed glasses to find my glasses most days. Not really a problem then since I only took them off to sleep and to shower.
    Cataract surgery freed me of the need to wear them for anything except the ever shrinking package instructions and badly printed phone pages. And eating. I'm not comfortable eating blurry looking food.

    What's nice is, when you go to the bank or the store and start hunting for glasses, one of the clerks will say, here, can you use these? and loan me a pair of hers.

    We're all in this together.