My family has been yelling at me for years and I have to say, it can be a bit maddening. I try to be a decent husband and father and still, the shouting has just gone on and on.
Fortunately, I have a great tolerance for this kind of abuse, having spent a few years as a journalism professor, so I hid my hurt feelings well. Another, less disciplined man, might have spoken up.
But the speaking up was left to the three other members of our household who didn’t hold back. They used, in their defence, the idea that I was as deaf as a frying pan. Not only deaf but steadfastly opposed to any suggestions that I do something about it.
But faced with living under the Huron Street bridge over the Avon River, I found myself at a hearing centre. Then I went to the bank and took out a mortgage which allowed me to buy hearing aids.
So, for the past six months, I have walked around with two little devices sticking in my ears and the new world this has opened up for me has been amazing. I will never forget the experience of being in my back yard and hearing, in fairly rapid succession, a Canada goose farting, a squirrel burping and a rabbit laughing. I was amazed and grateful.
But, as with all good things, there is always a flaw or two. With my hearing aids in and turned up, I can hear my own voice very well. And I don’t have to speak loudly to hear it. As a result, there has been a reversal of roles at our place.
My family members are now accusing me of whispering when I speak and demanding I increase the volume of my voice.
Being a reasonable man and one who is easy to get along with, I have obliged. In order for my family to hear me, I am now yelling at them.
This seems to be working but it appears the only real solution will be for the three other members of the household to be fitted for their own hearing aids.
So, off they’ll all go on Monday to Ears to You to get fitted.
As they leave the house, I will shout “good luck” to them.
Then sit down and call my friendly bank manager. He hardly ever yells at me.
©2021 Jim Hagarty
