I’m cuddled on the couch, ice pack to my cheek, pain killers at my side. The extraction I had done yesterday did not go well, there were some complications. As such, I’m just in no mood to do anything and was so very please to have gotten an email from one of my favorite bloggers yesterday. Larry has been a huge inspiration to me as I started blogging and has been there pushing me along when I needed help. His blog, Me, Myself and Kids, is hysterical. It takes on every subject under the sun, from his fear of morning showers to the lessons he learned watching Spongebob, I am always entertained and am pleased to have him write a guest spot for me today. Please read on and leave your comments for Larry below, and go check out his blog!
I am enraged. It is Sunday morning, nearly 11:30 am. I have been doing errands all morning. I am standing outside my house with grocery bags in my hand.
I can’t find my house keys. Therefore, I am beholden to one of my dear family members to answer the door. Twelve rings of the doorbell, multiple poundings on the door, screaming for attention, tapping on the window. Nothing works.
And I am left waiting. Two minutes. Four minutes. Still, I wait. I am livid.
Sunday morning is a quiet time in my house. I am sure BR is playing some computer game in the den. This is the only place/activity where his attentionally-deficit mind can focus to the point of shutting everything else out. I know SJ has his trains lined up on my bed while watching yet another episode of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse in my room. My wife must be in the shower or the laundry room. She would not leave me out there.
Finally, SJ, my 6 year old, opens the door. I scream at him. I am not interested in any excuses. The tears flow and his wailing begins. I send him to his room, not concerned that I may have gone too far. I yell at BR and send him to his room. No computer for him.
My boys have a skill. Selective deafness. I believe all children have it. It’s beyond annoying and sure to leave a parent muttering, if not worse (see above).
On the other hand, I think selective deafness is a very necessary tool for adults.
Consider this, ladies. How many times have you heard your man drone on about sports or another topic that holds little interest to you? You feign interest and shake your head periodically, but in reality, you are practicing selective deafness. I am sure my wife practices it. And you know what? I’ll bet you this helps our relationship. Guys – how many times has your wife gone on about work drama or a sale that, in reality, interests you none. Well, if you are wise, you practice selective deafness.
Selective deafness is helpful outside of the home as well. Have you ever been in a meeting that goes on for too long? The speakers start to sound like the parents in a Peanuts cartoon. I’ll bet you practice selective deafness. You zone out and hear nothing. This, people, is a good thing. Save your sanity.
Ever sat near someone on some form of public transportation that does not realize they are not in a private car? You know, that person who thinks everyone is interested in their cell phone conversation? Meanwhile, you are trying to sleep, read, or surfing on your computer. Well, if you practice selective deafness, you can focus on whatever it is you are trying to do.
So my boys were practicing for adulthood. I can appreciate that. Selective deafness will serve them well. Still, they better get off their butts the next time I ring the bell, or I am going to be pissed! Selective deafness be damned.