I started wearing glasses at the age of three. I hated them so much I would take them off and hide them in my mom’s clothes dryer; a front-loader that was the perfect height for a disgruntled toddler. When I did wear my glasses, I never cleaned them. Unable to see through the filthy lenses, the glasses would slip down to the tip of my nose and I’d peer out over the top of the frames, which made me look like a little old lady. This might explain why my maternal grandfather’s nickname for me was, Grandma.