In a little more than a week I will reach that magical age where I can join one of the most exclusive clubs ever devised, AARP. I don’t really need a calendar to remind me of this; myriad creeks, squeaks, groans, and moans compete to call my attention to the impending landmark.
There are many theories as to why the pain that causes these sounds seems to intensify as we age, but I think the fact of the matter is that we become so hard of hearing the pain adjusts in level to compensate for hearing loss.
Sound level has become an increasing bone of contention between Jackie and me; and never is it more contentious that when she is talking to the dogs. Without exaggeration, I utter the phrase “Are you talking to me or the dogs?” at least a dozen times a day anymore, something that never used to happen early in our marriage.
Granted we only had one dog back then and lived in a much smaller place, but still the problem stands. So I think in all fairness to my advanced age and both our sanities, she needs to adopt two tones of speech, one for me and one for the dogs. At least that way I’ll know which things are worth pretending not to hear.
Have fun with your old age cause it’s sure going to have fun with you!