My glasses are for distance;
I remove them when I read.
I couldn’t drive without them, though –
That much is guaranteed.
Yet when I sit down for a meal,
My glasses have to go.
They bother me when eating,
Although why, I do not know.
It’s really quite annoying
In a restaurant, ‘cause hey –
I don’t know where to put them
Where they won’t get in the way.
There’s only so much table space
And it seems like a pain
To have them hung around my neck
On some fahcocta* chain.
I guess they’d rest upon my head
But they’d mess up my hair.
I wouldn’t feel too comfortable
If they were perched up there.
If I rated all my problems,
This is bottom of the slate,
But I’m sure that there are other
Glasses-wearers who’d relate.