Big Audio Dynamite

A few weeks ago, the kids were surfing some auditory website and were testing the hubby's and my hearing loss.

Them, "Can you hear this?"

Me, "Are you really playing a sound?"

I discovered that, in addition to all of my other complaints on this blog, my ears are aging, as well. Anything above a certain frequency, I cannot hear. As you may expect with a musician, the hubby's hearing loss is worse.

Now, it's being used as a form of torture. I'll be driving along, minding my own business, when I hear the ever-annoying plea from the back seat, "Cut it out. Stop that. I said cut it out. Mom, make him STOP."

It's Son #1 playing some screeching noises on his iPod just to annoy his brother knowing full well that I can't hear 'em. I need a miracle ear. Maybe, just maybe, in this case, it's better that I can't hear. Otherwise, I need some snake oil.

When all around you seems like hell, just one sip will make you well . . .

Life is a Cabernet, Old Chum

Me: What do you want for dinner?

Son #2: Can we have tacos in a can?

* * *

Son #1: Give me the remote. You don't even know what you're doing.

Son #2: Don't incomplement me.

Son #1: Dude, the word is insult -- not incomplement.

Son #2: See? There you go again. Mom! He's incomplemating me all the time.

* * *

And now, in the midst of the end-of-break mayhem, the hubby is leaving to play in his jazz band at the Little Cafe as I host a sleepover with a couple of Son #1's little friends who are already glued to the Xbox, hyperactive and picking on Son #2 who keeps screaming/whining, "Stop killing me."

Hello wine glass. Whatcha knowin'? I've come to get this vintage flowin' Ain't ya got downtime for me? Do do do do, feelin' groovy.