Hearing Loss, Humor Gain

***Updated below***

If one doesn't take into consideration that I'm female and thereby batshit crazy one week out of every month, I am a relatively stable and normal person.

Heh. I don't care what the shrink says. I'm well-adjusted.

My husband likes to point out to me (usually when he's been drinking and feeling particularly brave) that if I had been born any earlier in history, I would have likely spent much of my time locked up in a sanitorium, eating bugs out of my hair and talking with my invisible friends.

I like to point out to him that this crazy women is fairly bendy and if he'd like to make use of this talent he ought to keep his flapping yapper shut.

So I can get a little nutty. Things could be worse for my husband. I could be nutty, unpliant, rigid and look like the back end of an ape. He should be counting his blessings. Nuts are good for the soul. Plus, they are natural laxatives. Ask my husband. He throws a shit fit about something I did on a regular basis.


Life recently got a whole lot crazier around here as I have been struggling with the latest bout of plague. The inmates were running the aslyum and the zookeeper was too damn sick to do anything more than moan and beg for water. My kids ate more sugar cereal and processed cheese this last week than I care to know. I get constipated just thinking about it.

Thankfully, life has returned back to it's regularly programmed schedule of Redneck hijinks and looney tunes. Except, there's been a twist.

I've gone deaf.

I have lost all hearing in my left ear and my right ear sounds like it's submerged underwater. Picture me doing a whole lot of yelling "Pardon me?" "Speak up, I can't hear you!" and my personal favorite, "What??? EHHHHH???? You talkin' to me?"

While I've always been a little on the nutty side, I'm now officially driving my family crazy. Heh. Welcome to my world, my lovelies. Glad you've decided to join me. Don't be alarmed when you start hearing voices in your head.

The doctors I have seen are comfortable in telling me this is only a temporary hearing loss, part middle ear obstruction and part viral infection. Nothing that time and a handful of colorful pills won't fix.

Meanwhile, every time I lay down my husband is trying to stuff candles in my ear, shoot hot water into my brain or pour oil into my plugged canals.

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I suppose this is mildly less annoying than him waving his Mr. Pickle in my face.

But if I have to hear about one more idea for his home remedies I can't guarantee I won't end up bouncing off a padded wall somewhere.

Meanwhile, hilarity ensues. (For me. My husband, friends and relatives aren't as easily amused.)

Because, as I'm discovering in my boggy-eared state, there are a LOT of words that rhyme with f*ck.

And while I suck at reading lips, I apparently am quite skilled in the dirty minded department. Just ask my husband who took his deaf wife out to watch the fire works last night and mingle with the local townsfolk.

He had to keep explaining to me that most people were not asking to tickle my ass with a feather.

They were just making commentary on our particularly nice weather.


Funny, I kinda liked my version better.


It's a good thing I like my version better. Apparently, I may have to get used to life without hearing in stereo. The doctors are now insisting I've suffered nerve damage and the hearing in my left ear may never be restored.


This is what happens when you agree to try your husband's peckercillin. Contrary to his insistence, it is not the cure-all he believes.

Wink, wink.