So about three days into our trip, my dear beloved managed to misplace his glasses. We’re still not sure how, but I think they must have fallen out of his coat pocket when taking it off en route to the Tube. Since then, we have had endless adventures pertaining to these very glasses, and their various unsuitable replacements.

Most of the time, my significant other has worn his prescription sunglasses. This was fine when we were outside a lot, walking around London or Dubrovnik, but nighttime became a problem. Luckily he had brought a pair of contacts just in case, but they irritate his eyes too much to wear all day long. So during his three-day conference, which was the entire reason for our trip, he had to wear his sunglasses to his seminars. Real cool guy.

The true problem with this arrangement revealed itself when we were flying home, as every passport control point we passed (and they were numerous) demanded that he remove his dark glasses. Finally, in San Francisco, a mere hour and a half away from home, the customs agent patrolling the baggage claim area practically jumped out in front of us to tag us for “random” inspection. Great.

Now that we are home, he has ordered a new pair of glasses which will optimistically arrive in a few days’ time. In the meantime, he has decided that wearing his sunglasses indoors at night to do work simply isn’t acceptable. So I came inside just now to find him wearing what can only be described as dinner plates on his eyes, an old pair of glasses that he dredged up from God knows where in an effort to give his eyes respite from the strain of either wearing sunglasses in the dark or his contact lenses.

Turns out the story is that he broke his glasses while working in Africa, many years ago, and asked his mother back home to get him an identical pair. He even provided her with the brand name and number. Upon seeing the new glasses, however, she decided that they looked too small, and asked them for a bigger pair. So he wore the dinner plates for a while, and upon returning home, his mother exclaimed, “Your glasses are huge!”

Oh man. Knowing his mom like I do, I can totally see this all happening.

So now I am faced with a half-blind man in my house, one whom I cannot look at without cracking up, either for the ridiculousness of the glasses or for the story itself.

Scariest part is… I find them strangely sexy. Oh, I am doomed. It must be love.