Grace has been on vacation—or as close as teachers ever get to one—for all of January. As such, most mornings when I’ve pulled myself out of bed as the bread winner (note: assuming the bread winner is the taller one who makes less money), Grace has been nestled under the covers sleeping soundly.
On Friday morning, however, she had to go onto campus for some meetings with students and I was opening the library, so we were both up relatively early. Little did I know that this would throw off the delicate balance of our mornings.
Grace got up first and went through her morning routine.
When I got up and showered, she was on the couch squinting at her laptop. I thought nothing of it—she’s like 3/4ths of the way to blind and deaf as it is—and went about my morning.
I showered, I brushed and flossed, I put on some deodorant and then I went to grab my contacts. This is where things get weird. My contact case, which has resided in the exact same spot in our bathroom for the entirety of our time spent in this apartment wasn’t there.
I looked around and noticed it was on the back of the sink, opposite Grace’s contact case.
“Well, that’s weird…” I thought to myself and opened it up. I dipped my fingers in the contact goo and came up empty-tipped. I dipped a finger again, still no little piece of plastic latching to my finger.
I inspected the situation a little closer and noticed that there was nothing in the case, but the goo. This was also weird, because I always empty and rinse the contact case when I take out my contacts.
I thought well, maybe I filled the case and forgot to pluck ‘em out last night?!
So I did that crazy thing people do when they think there’s something in their eye and I pulled back my eyelids and stared all crazy-like into the mirror, but alas, I was wearing no ‘tacts.
I turned and looked at Grace who was leaning about four inches from her laptop screen and blinking and politely asked…
Cap’n Charisma: “Hey…uh…did you put in my contacts?”
Squints McBlinderson: “Pfffffffttt…no.”
Cap’n Charisma: “Really?!”
Squints McBlinderson: “Um…I don’t think so.”
She proceeded to stare at me, squinting and blinking the entire time.
I then grabbed her contact case, which is evidently hers because she always puts the lid with the “R” on it on the left hand side instead of the right hand side. Seriously, she leaves the contact goo in, she puts the lids on the wrong side…it’s like she paid no attention when the eye doctor was teaching her about good contact care.
I opened it up and sure enough, there were her contacts floating at the top.
Cap’n Charisma: “Dude…you’re totally wearing my ‘tacts!”
Squints McBlinderson: “…are you sure?!” *squinting madly*
Cap’n Charisma: “Uh, yeah…pretty sure.”
Squints McBlinderson: “Well, that explains why I can’t really see.”
…that’s my gal, y’all.
What amuses me is that for this to even happen, she had to grab my contacts from the shelf where they always reside and hers have NEVER lived. It makes zero sense. Plus she’s like super blind and I’ve got only slightly poopy vision. How her inability to see anything wasn’t a dead giveaway is beyond me.
Granted, this isn’t the first time she’s made a big mistake in the bathroom: