This month's blog post is an assignment from my honors language art class. We were to write a memoir in second person about a conversation that was memorable. We were not to include the actual conversation, but to describe our thoughts and observations before, during and after. I bet this story sounds familiar to some of you! This happened to me in third grade, and, needless to say, I get along with my hearing aids much better now.
The Talk
You are a
carefree child reading a book while sitting on a chair. The hearing aids you are wearing are heavy, so
you take them off. You put the hearing
aids onto the table next to the chair.
Eventually you lose interest in the book and wander off. The hearing aids lay forgotten on the
table. Your parents have told you
multiple times not to leave the hearing aids lying around.
There is a
dog with a nose for trouble and a taste for earwax. He is only a year old but has yet to learn
not to chew on furniture. It also
happens that he likes to sit on the chair that is next to the table with the
hearing aids.
Your
parents discover the chewed-up hearing aids, and they ask you to talk to them. You’re frightened. What could you have done now? It is evening– the sky is a purple hue. Your parents try to make you understand the
significance of the hearing aids and the responsibility that comes with
them. They are also disappointed that
the hearing aids were left unattended.
You are sad at first, disappointed that your parents are
disappointed. But then …
Hearing
aids are heavy, lousy, obnoxious, hateful, hurtful, the microphone is unruly,
everyone gives you strange looks, you get blamed for everything that you feel is
the hearing aids’ fault, and now your parents are disappointed that you left
the hearing aids on the table. The
hearing aids are an unwarranted evil, you are glad the dog chewed them, and you
should never have gotten them in the first place, it doesn’t matter now that
your parents are disappointed.
But your
parents are not happy with this turn of conversation. You hate the hearing aids, but they want you
to wear them. It goes back and forth -
hate the hearing aids, wear the hearing aids, hate the hearing aids, wear the
hearing aids. Your parents’ decision is
firm, as is your resolution to hate the hearing aids. Finally, you end up in tears and run to your
room, your safe haven.
The photo on the left is a picture of me now with Oreo, (the dog who chewed my hearing aids!), and the photo on the right is a picture of me and Oreo in third grade which is around the time "The Talk" happened, both pictures are taken in New Mexico.
The photo on the left is a picture of me now with Oreo, (the dog who chewed my hearing aids!), and the photo on the right is a picture of me and Oreo in third grade which is around the time "The Talk" happened, both pictures are taken in New Mexico.
