Coach and I took 5 of the kids to Michigan on Aug. 7th. Laddie decided not to go. Long story.
While in Michigan we celebrated our 24th anniversary. August 10th.
We stayed in an Airbnb and by jove when they said the house slept 8, it ACTUALLY slept 8 . . . such a revelation. 'Member the condo in Vancouver that invited us with their: "hey, sleeps 8" when in reality there was space for 3? We were glad that trickery was not part of this rental. Without Lad we had even more space. The girls were expected to share a full size bed, but instead no one shared. That created the kind of peace one comes to expect on vacation. Crazy, right?
The first morning Coach and I decided to go for a walk. He doesn't usually like to walk as far as I do, so he warned me that he might ditch me. I got dressed and when I was downstairs I told him that I was having a hard time seeing out of one of my contact lenses. It was blurry. Blurry contacts is usually a late night thing when I am about to go to bed. Very few things make me grouchier than a painful or malfunctioning contact lens.
I put a re-wetting drop in the eye and off we went.
Coach kept pointing stuff out to me on the walk: Look at that awesome house. And: Oh, here's another public beach I thought we might try out.
I was super annoyed because I COULD NOT SEE.
Coach wondered if I really got my contact in my eye or if I dropped it. I have worn contacts for over 30 years and the issue he described is really more of a rookie issue. Just ask Reggie. A story for another time.
I started questioning what could really be going on with my eye, as one does. Like, what kind of debilitating disease could I have woken up with that would cause me to suddenly go blind in one eye? Coach doesn't enjoy playing along with this kind of game, so he was all 'STOP!' Oh, and the other eye was not experiencing normal vision either, just not as drastic.
WHAT ON EARTH WAS GOING ON?
I always travel with a spare pair of contacts. I told Coach I was not going to continue on walking without him, my seeing-eye-dog, plus it was getting late and we needed to get kids moving so we could get to the beach. We returned to the house and I took the failing contact lens from my left eye.
I live in fear of being without contact lenses, so I put it in my holder 'just in case.' I kept saying, "It doesn't hurt, it just isn't helping me see any better." I mean contacts have just the one job after-all, right?
I popped in a brand new lens, and magic. I could see! I was so relieved.
I dumped the goofy lens in the toilet just as Coach stepped out of the shower. This house was old and the bathroom was pretty small. The counter space was crowded.
Coach (dripping wet, listening to me celebrate my newly restored vision): Wait . . . what? Whose? Where are MY contact lenses?
Me: (BLINKING WILDLY) Ahhhh! Shit.
I glanced down at the tiny counter space and there pushed over to the right side of the sink was MY CONTACT CASE, UNOPENED, still housing my perfectly fine, happy-to-correct-my-vision lenses.
Coach's case: opened and . . . empty.
Me: Oh my gosh! Coach, wait (spinning around in the tiny space) - it's still there, I just threw it in the toilet, but I can see it, I haven't flushed. I will just reach in there and grab it. OH MY GOSH, I AM SO SORRY! I didn't know. I'm a lefty, your case was on the left side. I, I, I can't believe I did that!
Coach: It's OK. I am not putting a contact in my eye that has been in the toilet of a RENTAL HOUSE DURING A PANDEMIC.
Side note: Coach does not wear his contacts everyday. We wish he did, because when he watches TV, especially sports, or if let's say he tries to see my expression to see if I am really ticked or just slightly ticked about something . . . he squints in an awful, squished face sort of way, while leaning his forehead towards me. Obviously he is not as blind as I am, ahem - especially in his left eye. He kept insisting that he had a spare pair with him, but I didn't believe him. I was bent over the toilet, ready to plunge my arm in and fish the lens out. Nothing says love quite like that, am I right?
Me: That's what contact lens cleaner is for, I will just get it out and you can clean it.
Coach: I am peeing in that toilet so that you don't try to get the lens out of there. Oh, pee is sterile, but STILL . . . Move away from the toilet! I mean it. I am not wearing it ever again. I have others! STOP!!!
We exited the bathroom and there were the 5 kids sitting on the bed wondering what the hell we were arguing about. I begged them to side with me and let me get the contact out of the toilet, but they sided with Coach and LAUGHED THEIR BUTTS OFF AT ME. Clearly they were not all operating out of guilt like me.
Instead of fishing the discarded lens out of the toilet, I plucked the right lens out of my eye and sheepishly offered it to him. "Here's your other one. Sorry."
This was our second out of town visit when someone put something in the wrong bodily place, and if you haven't read that somewhat related, OK- not at all related but even funnier, misstep, then I urge you to check it out here.
Is it just me, or are you all on the edge of your seat waiting to see what other adventures we have during our next 24 years?