I just saw someone destroy a Mac.
Ok, moving on, I have lost my voice. It is completely gone. I get down to pick something up and a little hoarse squeak comes out, unlike my own voice, and it is driving me nuts. I can't speak to my kids so I have resorted to smacking my hand as hard as I can on the table. When I try to speak nothing comes. At times I am lucky and I am able to eek out a really bizarre sound like Joan Rivers and Rachael Ray combined. It is not pretty.
I keep having thoughts of The Piano, Harvey Kietel dusting a piano with no britches on, and stepping up to a microphone with no voice to back it up. I have called Dear Sir twice at work today and all I have for him is a ferocious whisper and he says, "Quit talking. You're scaring me." In other words, quit calling me. I actually got up the nerve to still do school this morning with the boys. We skipped dictation, but that is ok. When I would want one boy's attention I would slam my palm against the table and stare at him. They were a little freaked out. School went well.
The Oldest just looked up laryngitis in his medical manual so he can be assured that my voice comes back. He is a bit concerned, I guess. This has cropped up from allergies. It was all in my ear the other day and I was hating life, and now it is down in my voice box. It is better than pain in my ear, which is unbearable, so I guess I have to live with it for a bit. Dear Sir keeps saying, "Hot drinks, hot drinks."
The daughter told me this morning, "Now dad has a mute wife."
More on this later. I am about to go on a date with Dear Sir and I get to whisper to him the whole time.
Green Cathedral
Madness in a high-ceilinged building.
Followers
People in my Holy Place
The Professor----Formerly known as Dear Sir, my husband, the man of the house
The Oldest----Known in younger years as Mickey Mouse, and now he is embracing adulthood by being over 18.
Eraser Eater----Well-known for his old habit of eating erasers and whining about ridiculous things. Now he eats Tabasco sauce and says little in his 15 years.
The Girl---The one who is still more mature than I am at 13.
The Oldest----Known in younger years as Mickey Mouse, and now he is embracing adulthood by being over 18.
Eraser Eater----Well-known for his old habit of eating erasers and whining about ridiculous things. Now he eats Tabasco sauce and says little in his 15 years.
The Girl---The one who is still more mature than I am at 13.
9 comments:
Definitely hit the hot drinks, tea with lemon and honey. Go ahead, add a little whiskey, it won't cure you, but you won't care so much.
don't you remember when I posted a pic of the mac after christmas? It was totally bent and the screen was smooshed, we hid all that in the video's, also, the impact from me running over it destroyed all the info on the hard drive, so no parts were salvagable either. Battery was shot. all gone, so we figured, we would have some fun with the shell
Joel shouldn't really mind going on a date with you when you can't talk. It will probably remind him of his Minnesotan days. Excess verbal communication is frowned upon in the frozen wastelands.
Minn. Wife: "Oly you never tell me you love me."
Minn Husband: "I told you I loved you at our wedding and nothing has changed."
Actually a Minnesota wife would probably never say that. She would realize he loved her by the compliments he pays her on the excellent jello salads she prepares!
Try the table smacking/eye glaring thingy with Dear Sir... Might prove for an interesting date! *Chuckle*
~Jennifer, all I have is gin. LOL. I am drinking coffee at the moment, so hopefully that will help more (I am already coughing up interesting stuff).
Beanie---I remember now---you ran over your mac. I thought for some reason you had a different laptop. I didn't think about that! Good show, anyway. Didn't expect your voice to sound like that...LOL.
Todd--He didn't mind, except he didn't talk much either and so we just ate and stared at each other in a hick/Minnesotan sort of way. It felt wrong. He watched as my sandwich drippings leaked all over my hands. Not pretty.
Lisa--I had a good laugh over THAT suggestion. I actually imagined it in my brain. The man would be mortified. I just thought of it. He would be absolutely shamed and freaked out. It WOULD NOT GO OVER WELL. LOL.
Gee, I sorta think the deep, whispering thing might be pretty sexy on a date! Lauren Bacall-ish? Might lead to some other, non-verbal forms of communication, huh? It's gotta be better than table slapping at least.
Yikes! I hope you get better soon! Your hand is going to start getting sore.
At least you weren't thinking of Rodney Dangerfield or Al Roker in their boxer shorts dusting off the piano...at least, you weren't before now.
That daughter of yours is such a sensative soul, isn't she? I am reminded of her recent comment about belly fat. This blog is a laugh a minute for me. I love what you write. You may think you're weird, but my mom's brand of dysfunction makes all that you do look just fine. Trust me.
jrh---I wish.
Lynn--thanks. My hand's alright so far, but then I haven't even started school yet and I am horribly late.
KingJaymz--not a good mental picture. Harvey is pretty close in my estimation to Rodney or Al, so not much better. Ack.
Thanks for the reassurance. I am glad to make someone laugh!
The daughter of mine is so sensitive, she really is, but she knows I can take whatever she says to me, so that can be a good thing...and a bad thing. She comes up with some good ones. Some really perceptive ones, I must say.
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