When I was first brought into this house, there was a lot of talk about finding replacements for me. My owner and his wife often discussed how they should get one of me for every room in the house and one even for his work. All that talk about replacing me left me devoid of individuality and self-confidence. I never thought I could love myself again.
Two days after I got here, my owner asked his wife to remove me from my seat on his nose. The way she yanked at me, made me feel like she was attempting to break my bones. My legs almost came off with the force she applied to them. My owner was not pleased. He told her that they had paid quite a sum of money to get me, so she should be more careful while handling me. That day was the highlight of my existence. On that day, I felt loved and cherished. He was there to look out for me. That day, was the best day of my life.
After that day, everything simply went downhill. They, as a vicious couple, had given me hope, only to snatch it away from me. I wish they had gone ahead and found all those replacements instead. I wish they'd done it. 'Cos then, I would have been spared of all the sights I've had to see, all the things I've had to endure.
My owner sometimes wears me in the shower. I burn under the stream of hot water for a few minutes before he realizes that I'm still perched on his nose. The protective film on my lens is slowly beginning to come off.
After his shower, it is customary for my owner to completely forget about me. So I sit there, in the shower, among all those shampoo bottles and shower gels and other unspeakable things that his hoarder of a wife accumulates and keeps in the shower. I sit there for longer than I should because nobody misses me.
On some days, my owner remembers to take me off before getting into the shower. So he places me next to their wash basin and as usual, completely forgets about me when he gets out of the shower. On bad days, I have to sit there for about 12 hours. Sometimes, his wife walks in at night to do her "routine". All that scrubbing and face-washing. A part of me believes that the water she splashes in my direction is by no accident. Because I have seen it. I have seen how she spots me, and gives me a sidelong glance before walking out of the bathroom and switching off the light. I have heard him ask her if she'd seen me, and I've heard her say "no". LIES! She does it to teach him a lesson I suppose.
My owner loves to cook. He does it whenever he can. And every time he cooks, he fogs me. And every time he fogs me, he remembers that he doesn't need me for cooking. So he snatches me off his nose and dumps me on the counter. I smell of oil and spices on some days.
Then, there's that friend of theirs. My owner and his wife spend an abnormal amount of time hanging out at their friend's place sometimes. Morning till late evening. And my owner removes me from his face even at his friend's place, only to forget where he'd left me. One day, I was left on the friend's dining table. The
bitchwife found me. When her husband asked her to pass me to him, she slid me across the table without even stopping to think about what she was about to do. One end of the table to the other, in one sweeping motion. I was appalled. I expected him to say something. Nobody stands up for me any more.
One other time, at this friend's house, my owner left me on the couch. His big bottomed wife almost crushed me with her giant ass! But when she spotted me, I heard her say, "Oh, that would have hurt.". "Thank you!", I thought before realizing that she was talking about herself. Bitch. Because what did she do next? She turned to her husband, my owner, and said, "Don't leave this thing lying around" (this "thing"!) followed by, "Catch!". CATCH! Imagine that. I was flung across the room.
One day, my owner left the house without me. He stopped in front of the window from which his wife waves him goodbye everyday and remembered that I was missing. He tried to convey through sign language that she had to go out and hand me over to him. But she just couldn't get it. That daft woman would just stand there, smiling and waving at him. She seemed to be in a good mood but that disappeared the minute she spotted me on the coffee table and realized what he'd been trying to tell her. The smile vanished and red laser beams shot out of her eyes. I was scared shit-less. When she picked me up, I was sure that she was going to fling me out of the window. I thought she was going to say, "Catch!". I knew my end was near. Thank God for my owner (bless him!) who came back all the way to get me.
I have lost count of the number of times I have been dropped on the floor.
I have lost count of the number of times I've been stepped on. And they're the ones who scream, "Ouch!" before kicking me out of the way.
'Tis is a sad life.
~Written from the perspective of The Husband's ONE pair of spectacles that we abuse daily in this household.
I think spexy might be trying to send us a message here: