Of course that sent me running through the house to find him, cursing YouTube all the way. I couldn’t imagine what else would have brought such a celebration of the derriere on. After all, I have raised my son on the wholesome goodness of heavy metal music, tuning his ear to the angelic sounds of Judas Priest and Iron Maiden.
None of your devil music, Sir Mix-A-Lot
I hit the den, and sure enough, my sweet baby was perusing his tablet, and sure enough, he was on YouTube. However, instead of going wild about junk in the trunk, he was happily looking at radically tricked-out ... buses. He was loving big buses, not butts.
It’s not the first time I’ve misheard things. In fact, I do it quite frequently. How my ears twist innocent sentences into hair-raising statements (believing my son had discovered rears, for instance) or into complete inane comments is beyond me. It leads to many a chuckle for my husband.
The first time Hubs encountered my weird hearing was early into our marriage. One day he turned to me, gifting me with a sappy look that only a man in the first throes of love can manage. In a tone oozing with adoration, he looked deep into my eyes and said with the utmost conviction, “You have the gift of gravy.”
While a decent cook, I had never made gravy for my guy. And as declarations of love go, it was not exactly the most heartwarming of sentiments. So with the vast verbal skills I possessed at my command, I strove to discover why my guy thought it so important to deliver his confusing statement.
I said, “Huh?”
He blinked, sappiness disappearing in an instant in the face of my ‘What the hell are you talking about?’ expression. He repeated, “I said, you have the gift of great beauty. What did you think I said?”
Well, that was much nicer. A girl can appreciate her man telling her something like that.
My disability now discovered, Hubs found it hilarious. And I’m sure you can figure out what I discovered on the next Christmas morn under the tree, carefully wrapped and bedecked with pretty ribbons and bows.
I DO have the gift of gravy!
So between bizarre proclamations that I am gifted with drippings and worried my son is wandering into bootylicious land, life is filled with auditory misfires. I’m glad to amuse everyone else as I cope with a world gone seemingly mad ... until someone clarifies that it’s only my hearing that’s insane.