In Praise of Contact Lenses

I wandered around the house, biting my bottom lip in confusion. Where had I put my glasses? I checked the usual spots, retraced my steps in my head. I'd been up to the pool for a swim...perhaps I 'd taken them off there? Braving the blast furnace that greeted me as I swung open the back screen, I scampered up the grey stone stairs to the pool area, unwilling to pause or even glance around as radiated heat assaulted me from every surface. I reached the relative safety of the market umbrella over the rickety wooden picnic table and peered through the sudden shadow with my less than efficient eyesight, patting the warm wooden surface for good measure.

No glasses.


Sighing, I glanced back towards the house. Something in the bottom of the pool caught my attention. Leaves? No. There was something both vaguely familiar and disturbing about the shape.

Can't see it? Look closely.



Please tell me I did not dive into the pool wearing my glasses.

OK. Don't bother.

The tricky bit of course was getting them out. You see apart from the diving in thing, I don't put my head under the water. I know; stupid, illogical, whatever! I can do it with diving goggles on but even then I can't get all the way down to the bottom of the deep end and stay there long enough to grab something. I have tried on numerous occasions but after one or two strokes I explode upwards in an explosion of silver bubbles and emerge with a tortured gasp for air.

My family find it quite amusing. Ask Himself about the time I tried to scrub the sides of the pool whilst wearing a snorkel.

Anyway. I got them out with the long handled leaf scooper thing. And collected a few of those leaf babies while I was there!

I am nothing if not resourceful.