Hey, Four Eyes!

PHOTO BY D. LORD (MOM)

I started wearing glasses at the age of three. I hated them so much I would take them off and hide them in my mom’s clothes dryer; a front-loader that was the perfect height for a disgruntled toddler. When I did wear my glasses, I never cleaned them. Unable to see through the filthy lenses, the glasses would slip down to the tip of my nose and I’d peer out over the top of the frames, which made me look like a little old lady. This might explain why my maternal grandfather’s nickname for me was, Grandma.

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Happy Father’s Day: Little Miss, Young Miss, Old Miss

When the man walked in every woman’s head simultaneously turned to look at him like we were Stepford-Children of the Corn. It’s unusual to see a man in Claire’s. (Oh, you don’t know what Claire’s is? Then you don’t have a pre-pubescent girl in your life. Well, technically I don’t either, but I used to be one and thus never lost my taste for girly-girl accessories on the cheap.) Even male employees are rare at Claire’s. And the ones they do have don’t usually dress in business suits. We women said nothing out loud but I’m sure our Borg collective thought was: “What are you doing here, Sir? Are you lost?”

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Going Green and Seeing Red

This has probably happened to you too. In fact I know it has. I stuck my hands underneath the automatic faucet in a public bathroom. It’s automatic now because we can’t be trusted on our ownsome to turn on the water, run it at the right speed and temperature, and then turn it off. I’m ever so grateful that someone has put the power of technology behind taking that heavy burden off my mind. My nights now are ever so restful. 

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