Sunglasses, I Love You

On top of my addiction to love of shoes, I find myself constantly buying new pairs of sunglasses. I don't buy expensive ones because I am cheap, and I know that I will inevitably lose or break them. I am like Sid from Toy Story, but instead of ruining the lives of toys, I kill sunglasses. My house is the graveyard of sunglasses.

This leads to the problem: I get very emotionally attached to sunglasses. I find that my sunglasses have their own souls and feelings, and I love them for protecting my eyes from the evil sun. And then I lose or break them. This leads to me feeling like an utter failure. I get all attached to these things and feel so good for having them. Then one day I go to wear them, and they're gone. Or worse yet, their arm is no longer attached to them.

It is definitely worse when I break them because then it is like they are staring at me with their missing arm and judging me for not taking better care of them. Sometimes I will attempt to fix them. I will find someone else's an older pair and remove a screw from them in order to surgically reattach my little UV blocking pal's missing appendage. But because I can never judge what size of screw I need, all of my dad's old sunglasses are now missing arms.

So here's to all my fallen sunglasses. Like the pair who are resting at the bottom of Canoe Lake after the fateful canoe accident. And to the pair that is sitting on my desk with their arm beside them screaming at me for breaking them. Thank you to all of my little friends who have protected my eyes from the nasty little UV rays who want to steal my vision. And to all the pairs which I have yet to buy, I am sorry in advance for dragging you into the house of sunglass horror.


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