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March 21, 2025
Contact Solution
By Mikie Baker
The Bandera Prophet
By third grade, an optometrist deemed that I was near sighted because I couldn’t even see the Big E on the wall. From that moment on, I was called “Four Eyes” because I was forced to don pearl white bat frames, I mean glasses. It’s the exact day I became a comedian because all the kids were already laughing at me. And nobody puts Baby in a corner.
So, there I was. Four Eyes. Until that wonderous day the Seeing Eye Gods invented contact lenses, so blind bats could fly free. It was a very expensive proposition for the parents of an eighth-grade girl who begged unmercifully so she could just have two eyes again.
What a wonderful ending to a sad story, right? Nah, that’s just the beginning of The Great Contact Escape.
ME: Hello, my new friends! I think I’ll call you two My Plastic Peepers.
MPP: We see we can help you do more than just read the Big E on the Chart, but beware. We can be fickle.
ME: Why? We fit like a luxurious pair of leather gloves straight from a Neiman Marcus sale.
MPP: Have you ever lost a glove before?
And there it was. The Omnipresent Threat from a couple of pieces of plastic.
I’ve always lost contacts, but the last few years it’s become a standing joke with my optometrist – when I call, the first thing I hear is, “So you lost another contact again?” It’s almost like I’m back to four eyes.
Unfortunately, when I moved in with My Future Husband, his bathroom sink was an overly large light green sink that was the exact shape and color of my contact lenses. Hence, the problem. And his marble countertop was a lovely shade of black. My Plastic Peepers took this as a sign that they should make a run for it. Especially the left one.
To confuse you even more, I have monovision contacts which means I see far away with one eye and close up with the other. It’s a kin to being as cross-eyed as a Siamese Cat until you get used to these plastic peepers. If I lose my right contact, I can no longer drive. If I lose my left one, I can no longer read anything smaller than the Big E on the wall.
Luckily, I focused on a great idea! The problem with losing so many contacts in my new abode was not having a white sink so I could quickly spot an escape artist. I explained my problem to My Future Husband.
ME: Dang it! I’ve lost another contact! It’s another $65 literally down the drain! I’ve finally figured it out that we need a white sink that’s not shaped like a green contact lense.
MFH: How many contacts have you really lost?
ME: More than half a dozen.
MFH: Googling white sinks now. Guess I'm buying.
Luckily, he found the perfect white sink and I picked out a nice “burnished” faucet (fancy, eh?) to match the omnipresent black marble. All good and installed, which somehow started a remodeling job for the entire bathroom. New lighting and some very nice under counter cabinets. We’ve been discussing painting the walls and getting a new mirror. How much fun!
Until I lost another Pesky Left Peeper the other day. They had turned on me once again. It took a day for My Future Husband to admonish me, but I told him to just blame it on my escape artists. The only good thing to come out of this episode is now I see how to get a bathroom makeover by only blinking my eyes.
Maybe being blind isn’t so bad after all.
So, there I was. Four Eyes. Until that wonderous day the Seeing Eye Gods invented contact lenses, so blind bats could fly free. It was a very expensive proposition for the parents of an eighth-grade girl who begged unmercifully so she could just have two eyes again.
What a wonderful ending to a sad story, right? Nah, that’s just the beginning of The Great Contact Escape.
ME: Hello, my new friends! I think I’ll call you two My Plastic Peepers.
MPP: We see we can help you do more than just read the Big E on the Chart, but beware. We can be fickle.
ME: Why? We fit like a luxurious pair of leather gloves straight from a Neiman Marcus sale.
MPP: Have you ever lost a glove before?
And there it was. The Omnipresent Threat from a couple of pieces of plastic.
I’ve always lost contacts, but the last few years it’s become a standing joke with my optometrist – when I call, the first thing I hear is, “So you lost another contact again?” It’s almost like I’m back to four eyes.
Unfortunately, when I moved in with My Future Husband, his bathroom sink was an overly large light green sink that was the exact shape and color of my contact lenses. Hence, the problem. And his marble countertop was a lovely shade of black. My Plastic Peepers took this as a sign that they should make a run for it. Especially the left one.
To confuse you even more, I have monovision contacts which means I see far away with one eye and close up with the other. It’s a kin to being as cross-eyed as a Siamese Cat until you get used to these plastic peepers. If I lose my right contact, I can no longer drive. If I lose my left one, I can no longer read anything smaller than the Big E on the wall.
Luckily, I focused on a great idea! The problem with losing so many contacts in my new abode was not having a white sink so I could quickly spot an escape artist. I explained my problem to My Future Husband.
ME: Dang it! I’ve lost another contact! It’s another $65 literally down the drain! I’ve finally figured it out that we need a white sink that’s not shaped like a green contact lense.
MFH: How many contacts have you really lost?
ME: More than half a dozen.
MFH: Googling white sinks now. Guess I'm buying.
Luckily, he found the perfect white sink and I picked out a nice “burnished” faucet (fancy, eh?) to match the omnipresent black marble. All good and installed, which somehow started a remodeling job for the entire bathroom. New lighting and some very nice under counter cabinets. We’ve been discussing painting the walls and getting a new mirror. How much fun!
Until I lost another Pesky Left Peeper the other day. They had turned on me once again. It took a day for My Future Husband to admonish me, but I told him to just blame it on my escape artists. The only good thing to come out of this episode is now I see how to get a bathroom makeover by only blinking my eyes.
Maybe being blind isn’t so bad after all.