Again a frantic school morning and even a more frantic me looking for my glasses. Though I am not ‘blind’ without them, blurry sights just irritate me as I have to squint my way through. I nudge my little sister repeatedly and beg her to help me. And she makes a range of expressions to convey that she is not obliged to do so and that I owe her for this. I
have to stand her rantings because I am the helpless figure here. And somehow, magically, she finds them in the same place that I had already investigated, she hands my glasses over to me with raised eyebrows and a crafty smirk as though saying,
Cleaning those is another pain. Clear vision interrupted at intervals by mushy spots to be cleaned.
As sweat accumulates on my nose, the glasses slip down again and again.
They spoil the look of my face, yet I look weird without my glasses on.
No matter where I keep them, I always end up sitting on them!
And I find no excuse to change the frame as they don’t even break!
Marks on my nose.
Gosh! Don’t I just hate my glasses!