Audio Check


“Are you talking to me?”

No, this isn’t my Robert DeNiro impression. I wish. I’m not that tough of broad. No, this is what I say to the people in my family who constantly have ear buds shoved into their ear canals.

Andy has been listening to audiobooks of Harry Potter that I downloaded for him onto an iPod. In fairness, I can usually tell when he’s talking to me because he speaks way too loudly in his attempt to be heard over Jim Dale’s fabulous reading style. Remember your first time listening to a walkman? Plus, he hasn’t quite got the hang of the pause button. “What’s for dinner?!!!!”

But Paul’s earbuds are more tricky. His double as his phone receiver. That and he’s an audiobook junky. (Triple speed, remember? I tried to listen in. It was like a foreign language and it left me feeling panicky and bit paranoid, like when I get a mani/pedi–I couldn’t shake the the feeling they were talking about me.) So I have no idea if he’s on the phone with a client, laughing at a passage from his book, or addressing his lovely sweet wife. Hence, “Are you talking to me?”

I experimented for a day and joined the earbud revolution. Not a good idea. I was so tuned out to everything else around me, I had to keep Jane in my arms all day for her safety. The kids could’ve been fiddling with explosives in the backyard and I would’ve had no idea.

The worst part is, I became extremely curt and short with those who dared to interrupt my listening time, halting the momentum of a deliciously thickening plot for mundane requests like sippy cups and Band-Aids. Can I read a book to you right now? Right now?! Can’t you see mommy is listening to her story and the hero has only 28 minutes to solve the riddle before the next victim is killed????

I missed an appointment that day, the time escaping my notice. Paul came home from work, changed into pajamas in front of me only to genuinely startle me when I bumped into him in the kitchen. “Oh…you’re home?” I hadn’t seen him.

I decided earbuds and audiobooks are not for me. At least not now, when the kids are little and I need to be able to hear the baby cry. And remember appointments. And engage with my children.

And as for getting Paul’s attention, maybe I should take my cue from Mr. DeNiro and take the offensive with that question, “Hey! You talkin’ to me?!”

Because with those earbuds out, I’m a much better listener now.


2 responses »

  1. I very much enjoy your posts, and a taste of what it’s like at your home. Your humor is inviting, and I find myself wanting more, which keeps me tuning in.

    Because you have a gift and should at some point publish your memoirs, perhaps you’ll allow my making one small suggestion: “Oh, your home?” ought to be “Oh, you’re home?” (you are, not possessive your) I’m sure it was a simple oversight but it’s one I’ve seen so much lately, and your writing is better than that.

    Please keep up the good and entertaining work.

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