Selective Hearing Loss

            Is it only my husband and children who are plagued by selective hearing loss or is this a problem common to the species? I say selective because what they hear and how they hear it comes and goes.

My husband always seems to hear fine when someone else gives him a set of instructions or passes along pieces of information. If a neighbor says, “The mailman delivered some of your mail to us today so I left it on your front porch,” that transmits perfectly and my husband acts accordingly. He also usually manages to capture any conversation dealing with an area that interests him. If I say, “I heard the local auto shop is having a sale on floor mats,” he’ll run right out and buy some so I know what I said registered.

The kids are another matter. They don’t seem to follow instructions no matter who gives it to them – with a few exceptions: teachers, pastors and grandparents. However, they do always seem to pick up on any conversations I wish they wouldn’t.

Maybe familiarity breeds contempt – after all I’m sure much of what I say to them plays like a broken record. Maybe my repartee is beyond boring. Maybe a wife’s and mother’s voice automatically calibrates to a decibel level only the family pet and her friends can hear. Perhaps there is some mechanism in their ears which seals off the auditory canal as soon as some bit of information enters they have no wish to assimilate. This might actually be getting closer to the heart of the matter.

I shudder to think how many times my husband has muttered the accusation, “You never told me that.” He’s always so certain. The kids on the other hand, invariably face me with a blank stare, figuring ignorance is bliss.

            For a while I began to question my sanity. Maybe I really wasn’t transmitting the data I thought I was. Is it possible I dreamt my mouth was moving, words were pouring out and yet only silence reigned? Sleeptalking – could that be the answer? No, upon reflection, I’m positive I was conscious each time I issued instructions or passed along vital pieces of information (vital obviously is in the ear of the behearer).

            To prove to myself I was still sound of mind, I purchased a small tape recorder – one of those new voice-activated models – and craftily concealed it on my person. I must admit, it was kind of fun picturing myself as a heroine in a spy novel. But back to my point.

Sure enough, the tape proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that I had been passing on all sorts of valuable data. “The Jones are coming for dinner on Saturday. . . It’s time to take out the trash . . . Have you done your homework? . . .  “Would you make sure you put your dirty clothes in the hamper tonight because I’m doing laundry tomorrow? . . . The grass needs to be mowed . . . Would you stop by the store and pick up some milk?” From my husband, I generally received some sort of mumbled reply, unintelligible but a response nonetheless.

            When faced with the truth, my husband did what all good husbands have done throughout the ages – bluster and bluff. Sounds like a comedy team but isn’t. “That’s not my voice! . . . You’re trying to trick me. You must have asked me the question on the tape in another room, turned it off, then come up to me and asked me something different.” The old refrain plays on, “You never told me that!” The kids continue to look blank.

            They listen to every word I say. Too bad they’re equipped with internal detour signs so it goes in one ear and out the other. Copyright Bonnie Phelps 2008