Gone Fishing: The Great Debate
(or, How I Nearly Drowned in a Jim Beam Decanter)
It all started innocently enough—coffee
with my sister. I love my sister, but bless her heart; she could talk the ears
off a cornstalk. That morning, her weapon of choice was cream. “Enough to
float a donut,” she quipped, eyeing my black coffee like a swamp creature.
I, ever the instigator, couldn’t
resist a little poke: “Coffee with your cream?”
She rolled her eyes, a gesture
I’d seen more times than a fisherman’s lure.
Then, she swerved into a monologue about a coffee sale as if on cue.
Knowing I was about to be dragged
down a conversational rabbit hole, I threw out my line: “Something’s been
bothering me. Maybe you could help me figure it out?”
Hook, line, and sinker.
I told her about my significant
other’s uncanny ability to vanish mid-sentence, like a magician, but with less
pizzazz and more disappearing acts.
“Early dementia?” I
ventured.
“Nah,” she said
dismissively, “more like a hearing issue.”
But as I recounted tales of
unanswered questions and ignored ice cream scoop inquiries, she remained
unconvinced.
By now, I was sure we were headed
down a conversational river with no end in sight. And that’s when Elvis entered
the building. Well, not the Elvis, but a Jim Beam decanter shaped like him. My
sister, ever the gracious host, offered me a “shot” in my coffee.
Desperate times, desperate measures, right?
With each sip, the conversation
grew more…fluid. We meandered through childhood hearing tests, teacher
complaints, and a husband who could rival a ninja in the art of kids not
hearing. I was lost in a sea of words,
and Elvis was starting to look a little blurry.
Finally, after what felt like a
lifetime of fishing for answers, my sister dropped the bomb: “Selective
hearing loss.”
It’s not contagious but more
common than a bad pun at a dad joke convention.
As I gazed at Elvis, I realized
I’d been thoroughly reeled in. At least
the company was good, and the coffee had a certain…kick to it. And that, my friends, is how I learned about
selective hearing loss, courtesy of my sister, a Jim Beam decanter, and a whole
lot of caffeine.
Moral of the story: Sometimes,
the most enlightening conversations happen when you least expect them. And when
in doubt, add a little Elvis to your coffee.
