When the snow melts after a long winter, all kinds of stuff shows up. Dog toys and the flower pots I meant to throw away but didn’t get to it before the first blizzard. A hat and a single glove. The other snow shovel and a missing broom. It also signaled the reappearance of our 2002 yellow Pontiac Sunbird that disappeared at the end of January.
After all the aggravation and expense of replacing my missing sunglasses, they were in the glove compartment of the yellow car. Garry said he thought they were in the car. I was so utterly convinced I’d looked for (and not found) them before the first blizzard, I bought a new pair.
During the past ten days, it has often rained. The snow finally melted allowing Garry to get into the car to look around. And, there were my sunglasses. The beloved sunglasses I’ve had forever, or nearly forever.
My favorite sunglasses were in the glove box the whole time.
Now, I own two pairs of sunglasses. I know it’s okay to own two pair of prescription eyeglasses. I have two pair of computer glasses, two pair of regular distance glasses. I don’t think they are a luxury.
I have two pair of prescription sunglasses, and I feel like a criminal. Guilty about spending the money, as if I’d bought a frivolous, expensive item I don’t need.
I’ve been poor too long.