Can't be trusted alone with glasses

Seeing a pair of unsuspecting spectacles just now when I ventured to the kitchen to concoct my breakfast this morning reawakened a long-dormant urge in me I thought I had kicked. I wanted to hide those glasses, either behind our faux, stunted Christmas tree or inside a box of cereal. They looked like they would be better-suited in the freezer or perhaps inside the pizza box in the fridge.

A few years ago I lived with a four-eyed fellow who could never seem to keep tabs on his lenses. He took them off at the weirdest times, like when putting away groceries. A few minutes or hours thereafter he'd need them to accurately measure a serving of tea and he'd turn the apartment upside-down to find them. Inevitably they'd be in the cupboard above the fridge, snuggled in next to flashlight batteries and duct tape.

Because I found this exercise so amusing, I took to initiating it myself. When he left his specs on the counter or coffee table, I'd surreptitiously grab them and drop them off in the fruit basket. Then I'd play dumb as he tore through the apartment seeking them. It was a fun game.

Somehow I don't think the same frivolity would occur if I did that here, so I'll just think about hiding them instead of actually doing it.