A man has got to have shades.
So he gets them out of my handbag and borrows mine.
He isn’t as careful with them as I’d like. In point of fact he has broken 5 pairs in 3 weeks. Mostly the arms get snapped off, well to be honest one arm. The other is left uselessly attached not offering enough support to hold the glasses over my eyes but instead pushes the snapped off and now quite sharp side firmly stabbing into the side of my head.
The other day I was wearing my sunglasses atop my head, as one does and I looked up for some reason, perhaps he pulled my hair and by extension my head, I can’t remember, anyway the glasses slipped off the back of my head and crashed onto the floor dislodging a lens. Which for a cheap pair of sunglasses took an inordinately long period of time to re-lodge correctly. So it seems even when I’m in charge the sunglasses aren’t safe.
He seems to enjoy wearing them on top of his head, he’ll pop them up there, wave a cheery farewell and tell me he is going out in the car. I’m not sure where he gets that idea from.
Even if he doesn’t actually break them he puts his grubby little fingers all over them. There is nothing less fun that putting on your glasses, the ones that you meticulously cleaned only moments before to find fresh smudge marks on the lenses. Every time. Or better still putting on your freshly cleaned lenses and sighing a happy job-well-done sigh. Picking up your toddler to deposit him into his car seat and having a tiny little jabby finger going directly for the lens.
If he’s really quick he also likes to grab them straight off my face. He will often pretend that he wants a hug, tug at the old heartstrings and I’ll bend down and put my face close to his. I think he is just lovingly staring into my eyes because I am his mother and I gave him life. I’ll stretch my arms out around him to enjoy a warm embrace from my son and he’ll whip his little hands up to my face, put his fingers all over the lenses and pull them off me to put them on himself stretching the arms impossibly wide to fit around his tiny head.
That’s not love that’s greasy fingered theft.