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Curtains

I get the odd compliment every now and then, quite literally. Like I always say, it beats a straight up insult, so I'd rather hear the compliment than the alternative. Still, it usually makes for a fun story.

There is one of those odd compliments, however, that I've heard repeatedly over the course of my life. Apparently, I have nice, long eyelashes. It's the sort of thing that I've never really considered, because that's just how my face looks. For better or for worse, that's what I've got, so I just take it for granted.

Now, I fully realize that I can say that in part because I'm a guy. I'm not expected to curl my eyelashes or apply mascara to them at any point, so I don't. Incidentally, that's also why the people who tend to make comments about my eyelashes are women. They do change the shape and length of their eyelashes, so they tend to notice those things. It's the same basic reason that I tend to notice when TV shows have "hacker" screens that are complete gibberish. I spend time working with these things, so my brain picks out those details.

Regardless, I have realized over time that I have above-average length eyelashes. I still think it's a funny compliment to get, but I understand it. I figure I've heard it enough times that people talking about my eyelashes won't faze me. Been there, done that, right?

Au contraire.

I was talking to the Mild Wife at one point when the length of my eyelashes came up. Honestly, I don't remember the context of the conversation. All I know is that one moment we were talking about something else, and then we were talking about my eyelashes. She made the "usual" comment about them being long, and I mentally eased into the same train of thought that I started this blog post with. Then, she threw me a real curveball.

"How do you see past those things?"

I don't think anyone has ever asked me that before, and I honestly didn't know how to respond. What do you mean? I clearly see well enough to get around in the real world, so I'm not legally blind or anything. But there was some thought process tied to that question, so I must have been missing something.

"Your eyelashes. They're long, but they hang down. It's not like they point up in the air. They cover up part of your eyes."

Well, this was news to me. I'd never once considered the orientation of my eyelashes before, but I could understand the question. Gravity is still a thing near my face, so my eyelashes do, in fact, hang down. I suspect that if they were shorter, it might be possible that they'd stick up in the air a little bit. However, they're long, so gravity starts to do its thing.

I conceded that this was true, but the Mild Wife wasn't done exercising her powers of observation. No, she was just starting to ramp up the hilarity of the conversation. Sure, I'm paraphrasing a bit, but let me assure you that the general gist and spirit of her comments are intact.

"Yeah, they hang down. Your eyelashes always remind me of Snuffleupagus."

Well, that was definitely different. Again, I can't exactly fault the logic. That's a pretty good analogy to describe what she saw. Still, she just called me Snuffleupagus. How do you not laugh when someone is compared to a Sesame Street character (and it's not malicious)? Worse yet, how do you not laugh when someone is accurately compared to said Sesame Street character?

It wasn't just me, either. The Mild Wife was starting to laugh about the whole thing, too. Of course, she had one last trick up her sleeve, the pièce de résistance.

"I always wonder how you see. They're like curtains!"

Neither of us could hold back the laughter at that point, and I nearly lost it. Imagine the thought of constantly trying to look around curtains, every waking moment of your life. It'd be like watching life through vertical stripes, constantly foiled by your own anatomy.

Once the laughter died down, I assured the Mild Wife that my view doesn't have vertical stripes. I'd never even considered that might be a possibility, honestly. Still, I don't think I'm ever going to forget the Snuffleupagus comparison or the curtain analogy. Let's just say that I'm liable to chuckle a little bit if another person at the optometrist's office makes a comment about my eyelashes.

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