Things started badly this morning. As I followed my normal matutinal routine I turned to flush the toilet and my glasses fell off.
I will allow you a moment for thought here.
If I had planned the whole thing my glasses would have either missed completely or hit the seat and bounced off to safety. As it was unplanned, and I was hurrying, they didn’t miss. At another time, and if they had hit a different target, I might have been proud of my effort. Today, pride was not the first feeling I experienced.
I couldn’t leave them there, in case the flushing took them somewhere where it might cause an expensive blockage, and it was unlikely I was going to persuade anyone else to help me out. There was only one solution.
Fortunately I used to work on a farm, so this wasn’t the worst place I’d ever had to put my hand. (In case you were wondering, it IS the worst place I’ve ever lost my glasses).
It’s all fixed now and I am wearing my glasses once again. All that remains of the episode is a vaguely disturbing memory and the faint smell of TCP that lingers round my glasses.
And yes, before you ask. We do have rubber gloves in the house, I just didn’t think of it at the time.
After that, unsurprisingly, things improved.