With my teeth gritting, bracing against the pain. As my eyes water and a sharp stabbing pierces my hair covered scalp. Hair that’s front and centre.  Should you cut it you’d have a thatch of spiked hair in place that would look like a three-year old was allowed to play with scissors while you slept.

Could be an excuse to go to the hairdressers for a new-year-do?

But, we’re talking about my spectacles AKA eye glasses, not drinking glasses. The optical kind of glasses that were allegedly invented back in the 12th century said to be used by Marco Polo. Not the singular magnifying glass used back in 5 A.D. from trapped droplets of water. Not talking about bifocals, invented by Benjamin Franklin in the 17th century. We’re discussing the irregular antics of my pair of corrective-singular-framed-lenses,  today’s ordinary everyday kind (yesterday’s fashion design no doubt) that are wrapped tighter around my hair like a toddler’s sticky death-grip on a lollypop.

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So I sit here with strands of hair wrapped tightly on the inner nose-glass-holders (sure there’s a fancy word for it) to not snap the frames, not create a bald patch in my hair and retain my sanity.

So I keep calm by thinking I’m starting a new fashion trend of wearing my glasses in my hair permanently not!  It seems my prescription glasses are determined to keep the hair out of my eyes. The eyes that need the glasses to drive a car, to not walk into traffic, or kiss a strange man (could be a good excuse for a pick-up-line) or kidnap someone else’s child instead of your own.

Maybe the guy who invented glasses had this in mind as a timely reminder to not wear them on your head but over your nose. But I remember my mother said in her day (before the Roman Empire and after the Ice Age and when TV was in black and white) she said glasses were for the squares, nerds, geeks and generally most people over forty. So specific?

Bet they all got their hair tangled in their glasses, at least once and maybe used it as a reminder to get their hair cut? Maybe I’m due for a haircut too?

So I didn’t heed the warning of my optometrist to not wear my glasses on my hair-covered-head and thought I’d live, having worn them for years and my sunglasses are free of those nose-holder-plastic-thingys. Yes, I should search the term for it….there we go, it’s called a nose pad that is placed on pad-arms that is what my hair is technically wrapped around.

So it’s said to be cool to wear your sun glasses on your head, many superstars and models do it. I do it and the added bonus that it keeps my hair off my face (as mentioned before) and having the ultimate bad hair moment. The perfect fashion accessory that most people have for show and not need glasses to drive with, except mine are dangling off the front of my face completely distracting my view. Not that there’s much of a view for me to see because I’m wearing my glasses in all the wrong ways!

But right now the humble set of glasses hurts like hell. If they weren’t made of glass I’d be hitting my head against the wall, like slapping a mosquito against your arm in reaction to their bloodsucking sting.

So what do you do?

Try and untangle it? Painstakingly slowly?

But trying to loosen the hair follicles only makes it tighter now lifting my scalp making me sit taller.

Painkillers are now your best friend from the hair-pulling exercise and eye strain from not wearing glasses.

So what do you do?

Call in the cavalry? Dial a friend?

Of course they’ll laugh. I would. It’s not a good look with lopsided glasses tangled in hair….never realised how heavy the frames were hanging off my hair.

Enough. My pain threshold and patience has had enough.

Eyes closed. Taking a deep breath. Scissors looking tempting at this stage. Channeling my inner warrior, and with one quick howling yank (I swear I’ve scared off the wildlife in a ten kilometre radius) – I’m free!

Pulling the entangled mass of hair strands free, rubbing what I swear is a bald patch like a golfer’s putting green. Hating my tool of torture in my hands as the pounding pain from my scalp subsides (or the painkillers have kicked in) I notice the smudgy glass lenses wondering  “how the hell did I ever see out of them in the first place”.

Maybe, just maybe, as I clean and re-bend my glasses back into shape, that this was they’re way of saying ‘look at me’ because  they require some urgent TLC.

Well they could do with a good clean and I’ll need to replace the nose-rubber-pad-thingys too. So I add this on my to-do list and as I don’t need my glasses to read or write I put them in the safest place I know where to find them…… back on top of my head!

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