I’ll be the first to admit I became a parent with a number of expectations – farewelling my precious sleep-ins and tripling my time in the laundry were things I knew were a given. Some things surprised me though. I was surprised to discover that this hardened nocturne can actually do early mornings every day. I was also amazed by how wide a blast range an occupied high chair has.
But the thing that surprised me the most was how incredibly dirty my glasses now get.
I’ve worn glasses since I was 7. I managed to get through primary and high school without them getting too dirty. I survive working in air conditioning without too much grime gunking up my specs. Nothing prepared me for the filthy film I clean off my glasses every couple of hours now I’m a parent.
Why? Sure, kids are fascinated by glasses – mine are no different. Alpha is mostly out of that phase, but Zulu is firmly in it. I’m blinded by the sudden (and yet totally predictable) theft of my glasses at least once a day. His chubby little fingers find their way to my lenses almost every time I hold him. There they pat, stroke, point and grab.
But even that doesn’t account for the layer of sheer scum that builds up so quickly – they’re often dirty at the end of one of Zulu’s naps, so that rules him out as sole culprit. I clean my glasses with a proper lens cloth and spray at least three times a day. I wipe them clean with whatever semi clean item of clothing I’m wearing at least half a dozen times more.
I have no idea how I can account for how dirty they get.
Okay, that’s not 100% true. I have one theory.
I think the saying about boys is true – they really are noise with dirt on it. Perhaps when they’re really noisy they dislodge dirt and send it flying out across the room, just looking for something clean to land on.
My boys are always noisy. Thus, my glasses are always dirty.