Four Eyes

I’ve been wearing glasses and/or contacts since the ripe age of thirteen. I’ve had my fair share of torn contacts, dry eyes, and bent frames. For some reason, keeping the smudges off of my glasses is a difficult task. I always ask my mom to clean them when I’m home. While I’m sure I could figure it out, my mom’s touch just seems to make them extra clean.

Last year around Thanksgiving, we found that my brother’s puppy, Nala, had a new chewing obsession. As a young puppy she was overly infatuated with shoes. It was pretty disgusting, because we had to put all of our shoes on the kitchen counter (I swear we aren’t dirtballs).

So what was her new obsession? You guessed it. Glasses. After completely demolishing my brother’s pair, maybe we should have known. I suppose everyone thought it was a freak accident until we found the little booger under a chair chomping on my precious pair of J-Lo frames (that had a bit of bling on them, might I add). I was furious. Nala and her puppy-like instincts always rubbed me the wrong way, but that day I had had enough. I was fuming.

Not long after, I bought a new pair of glasses. Cheetah print and way too cute. I mean, if I’m going to have four eyes, they may as well be stylish.