We went out to the sailboat (have I mentioned the sailboat? We have acquired my folks' pretty wooden day sailer since my dad's balance has become so poor--we keep it at the local reservoir in the summer. Lucky us!) the other evening.
The smaller hooligan brought his remote control speedboat. The wind was light and we were just tooling along very peacefully. He stood by the mast and ran his demonic little vessel alongside.
Some big tattoo'd dudes and their neon thong lady friends in a speed boat were amused. They hollered "Send that thing over with a beer!" Ha ha. That was sweet, actually. Often the sailboat people and the speed boat people have nothing to say to each other. We do not like the big wake they create. They do not like that we have right of way if we're under sail.
As we sailed away from our new speed boat friends the Man Who Lives In My House and the Smaller Hooligan were bobbing their heads in time to something.
"I hate this song." Said the smaller hooligan.
"Me too, but it's horribly catchy." said TMWLIMH.
"What song?" I asked.
They looked at me quizzically. You can't hear that? aske THMWLIMH.
"Hear What?" I responded.
The smaller hooligan chimed in "Mom you really are deaf!"
Oh dear. I thought having to get progressive lenses in my glasses would somehow protect me from other areas of sensory deterioration. I guess I can look forward to being more oblivious to irritating background noise.