Every time I get sick, it becomes laryngitis. A sinus infection, the flu or a sprained ankle...somehow, after a matter of days, I have no voice. Well, I have bits and pieces of a voice - put together they sound something like a cigar lounge singer after a bad night. It's not pretty. I have learned after years of dealing with this evil infliction that there is literally only one thing that will speed up the healing process - silence.
Now, while silence may be readily achieved by some - hunters, fishermen, mimes - I'm not one of those people. Asking me not to talk is like telling me to hold my breath for days on end. I'm either going to fail miserably or pass out. But I try because as much as I hate not talking, I hate the sexy smoker voice more, and I'm currently on Day 4 of it. The one benefit of not being able to talk, though, is that all you can do is listen. One day when I'm older and grayer, I won't remember (or care about) the words I wanted to say this week, but I pray I remember what I heard...
Water splashing in the bathtub
Uncontrollable laughter because the splashes got Daddy wet
Dumdum Deday (I have no idea what that means, but it's Brynna's new favorite sound and she mixes it into every conversation)
A spoon used as a drumstick on the kitchen table
Princess slippers clopping on the hardwood floor
Giggles from under the covers of my bed because someone's playing in "her tent"
Blocks banging on my bathroom floor - I've been told my tile is the best place to build a tower
The squeal that can only mean one thing - the garage door opened and Daddy's home from work
Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star in silly voices
Soft breathing from the ball of blonde hair snuggled under my chin
It's ok not to talk when it helps you really listen...
