I recently suggested that the hub get a hearing aid.
He accused me of mumbling.
“No one else thinks I need a hearing aid,” he said.
“No one else says I mumble,” I countered.
Then I told him a story.
A man, at the doc’s office for a routine checkup, mentioned his concern about his wife’s hearing.
“You can test it yourself,” the doc said.
“When you get home tonight, as soon as you walk through the front door, say ‘Honey, I’m home, what’s for dinner?’ If you get no response move into the next room and try again. If you still don’t get a response keep moving closer until you do.”
So when the man arrived home that evening he came through the front door and said, “Honey, I’m home, what’s for dinner?”
There was no reply.
So he moved into the dining room and said, “Honey, I’m home, what’s for dinner?”
He moved into the kitchen, right up behind his wife, who was doing dishes at the sink, and said, “Honey, I’m home, what’s for dinner?”
His wife spun around and said, “For the THIRD TIME, chicken!”
The hub chuckled in a convicted sort of way.
I don’t mumble.