The phone rang and after checking the caller ID my other half decided it was nobody he knew so—he answered it.  I do not understand that. Because then when the caller turns out to be a salesman or some other type of robo-call, on the walk back to his chair there is rumbling and grumbling about boiler rooms full of men and women bilking money out of lonely people. Does this sound familiar at all?

 
                Recently one call in particular got my attention. My other half answered the phone and he sat and was listening—and listening—and listening. He got a questioning look on his face and finally said to the caller, “I have no idea what you are saying. Here is my wife, talk to her,” and he handed me the phone. He said he couldn’t understand the caller. She was apparently talking too fast.
 
                Yes too fast. Not another language, or speaking to soft to hear, or mumbled and garbled from a bad connection. But too fast. So I took the phone, listened for a second or two and hung up on the obnoxious caller who without even a hint of taking a breath or letting anyone get a word in edgewise, wanted to sell us some new doohickey that we couldn’t live without. Click!
 
                But the talking too fast thing. Talking to fast to understand. Saying words in a line of sounds of vowels and consonants making words that flow from a mouth at such a rate that it is indistinguishable to the ears that are listening. This happens to me more and more as I seem to add years to my ears. I have not ruled out that I need a hearing device. I would not be opposed to one, I just don’t think, in our two person relationship, that it is me that needs to go to the hearing specialist.  Ah, finally we are there-hearing and the lack of it.
 
                Seems we both seem to say “Huh,” more than we used to. I find I have to calmly holler to him to wait until I am in the same room with him when is talking to me. I have to do this-a lot.
 
While his previously somewhat cute at times selective hearing has become much closer to non-hearing, and not on purpose. So what to do about this double hearing problem?
 
                Well first we must come to a compromise that we both go to the ear/hearing center together. At the same time. On the same day. See I know enough to know if I say I will go if he will go he will go after me—like in the next century. Just as soon as we agree on this one thing we will be on the way to better ear heath and the decibel level in our home will come down to a dull roar instead of every conversation sounding like a 747 taking off.
 
                But until then I was thinking of things to increase the hearing in our house. First of all, if I remember right, isn’t it true that ears never stop growing? Well I used to believe had ears as petite as Tinkerbell’s.  But just looking in the mirror and across the living room at him, we both have normal sized Dumbo flappers on the sides of our heads. They are going to have to hurry and grow before we lose our voices from repeating everything we say!
 
                I have a friend who has hearing helpers. I asked the spouse if when it became clear that one of them needed hearing help, if the one with the loss actually talked quieter. The answer was an unexpected but resounding YES! I asked that because I don’t really think I need hearing help, I think he does and because of that loss he is talking much, much quieter. Like he is talking through a goose down pillow quiet. Now that is quiet. No wonder I can’t hear him huh?
 
                He of course says no, it is my hearing. But then when I say he doesn’t hear me his comeback is that I never told him whatever it is we are discussing. Thus making me feel that I am losing my mind. Maybe I just thought I told him something. What a trip this hearing adventure is.
 
                I don’t know what the final outcome will be in regards to resolving to our muffled “pillow talk.” It has been going on for more time than we either will admit. Yes our TV is loud. Our radio in the car is loud. We can’t tell if that noise is the doorbell or the smoke alarm. We say, “You first,” when we see a hearing clinic in a neighboring town. So far the nay vote to stop and go on in has always won. So it seems that in our home when it comes to a vote, truly, the ears have it.
 
                Trina lives in Eureka, Nevada. Her book ITY BITS is on Kindle. Share with her at itybytrina@yahoo.com