Locusts of control
Mom’s hearing is slowly going. It explains a lot of things: the fact that Chinese soap operas are on volume 11, her saying that “I sound like ants speaking” whenever I’m on the phone with her.
Getting a hearing aid for her is on “the list,” along with about a hundred and fifty other things. The big one is taking her to the hospital two towns over to get more tests done.
Combined with Dad slowly losing his memory, speech, and overall cognitive skills, it’s the perfect storm of either hilarity or tragedy. It’s just that I’m too close to the source to discern which is which right now.
Dad: [mumbles something inaudible]
Mom: WHAT THE HELL DID YOU SAY?
Dad: [repeats inaudible words, although he’s clearly complaining about something]
Mom: (to me) Are you seeing this?
Dad turns to me and asks the same question he posted to Mom. He’s slurring his words and I have no idea what he’s saying.
Me: …
Dad: …
Me: (guessing) uhm...yes?
Dad: “Yes?” What kind of stupid…
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