Friday, September 04, 2015
In some traditions, at a birth, an important family member will whisper some special first words into the child's ear.
Usually they are certain prayers or words of welcome.
At this moment in my life I would not be at all surprised if the first words to be reverently uttered into my newborn ear was the phrase,
Seriously, all I have been hearing about for the past several months, almost constantly, has to do with Tom Brady and the deflated balls.
I have become a pro at conversational detachment-I am Horst's daughter after all.
If a person makes mention of Minecraft you tube videos, Star Wars the Old Republic, any sport, politics or whenever Horst starts to talk, my brain automatically defaults into detachment mode.
I may look interested. I will nod in all the right places, but in my head I will be doing other things, creating stories, planning a hair washing or praying to whatever deity that may be listening that the speaker will be stricken with a sudden case of pharyngitis.
I believe that this is why after all these months of deflated ball talk, it was just last night during dinner, B at it again about Tom's deflated balls, I finally put two and two together and snickered.
"It's not funny!" B snarled icily.
Months of enduring talks about deflated balls in silence, I laugh for the first and only time.
He will not even give me that.
In my family, hearing loss is common later in life.
I do so look forward to my dotage.