The Contact Lens

We also visited the glacier and mirror museums in Lucerne. It was, naturally, another opportunity for a family photo.

One of Darius’ contact lens fell out of his eye during the drive home.

“And so, Darius,” I observed. “Another family tradition is fulfilled!”

“What do you mean, Dad?”

“You have lost at least one contact lens every time you visit Zürich. And we’re never able to find a replacement. It’s a tradition.”

“Ah ha!” Darius exclaimed. “I knew all about this ‘tradition’. So, before I moved to Lebanon, I got a two year supply of contact lenses while I was in California. And, I brought two boxes of lens with me to Zürich. I have a replacement.”

“I can’t believe it,” I thought. Perceptively.

Back home, Darius triumphantly displayed two boxes of contact lenses.

“Which lens did you lose, Dar?” I asked.

“The right lens.”

“Hmm,” I replied. “You have two boxes of left lenses.”

“Arghh.” Darius responded. Accurately.