Hearing Aids

Hearing Aids

Yesterday morning I woke up and went downstairs into the kitchen. My grandmother was waiting for me with breakfast.

“Good morning, honey.”

“Good morning, Grandma.”

“What was that?”

“I said, good morning, Grandma.”

Photo credit: ikesters via Flickr
Photo credit: ikesters via Flickr

I sat down and grabbed a bagel.

“Thanks for making us breakfast, Grandma.”

“Eh?”

“I said, thanks for breakfast.”

“Oh, you’re welcome, honey.”

“Did you sleep well, Grandma?”

“What?”

“I said, did you sleep well, Grandma?”

“Oh, yes I did, thank you dear.”

I finished the bagel, pecked her on the cheek, and went upstairs to brush my teeth. When I left for school, I said, “Bye, Grandma,” but she didn’t hear me at all. It was a windy day yesterday.

                  When I got to school, I didn’t greet anyone, just to see if anyone would address me first. One girl, a mousy haired student with bad teeth who I knew from my drama class, waved at me. I waved back and went to my locker, near which a small group of friends were gathered. I asked them to move, but I was mumbling and it came out in a near whisper, and so they didn’t hear me. It was ok, because I had all my books with me and had only been looking to put my jacket away.

During Geography class, the teacher asked me the capital of Turkmenistan.

“Ashgabat.” I was staring at the yellow sweat stains on the underarms of his shirt as I answered.

“Pardon me?”

I looked around at the class. Nobody but the teacher had turned to look at me.

“You’re sweating a lot today. We can all see your pit stains.” I said, dropping my voice a tone.

“Pardon? I’m sorry, you’ll have to repeat that.”

“Ashgabat.”

“Correct! Good job.”

I looked around again. Everyone was slumped in their seats, doodling or just staring ahead blankly.

                  This morning I woke up and went downstairs into the kitchen. My grandmother was waiting for me with breakfast.

“Good morning, honey.”

“I think I’m going to join a gang.”

“What was that?”

“I said, good morning, Grandma.”

I sat down and started to butter a piece of toast.

“I’d do well in the drug cartel, probably. I took karate until the sixth grade and the student evaluations my teachers fill out at the end of every term say I have good teamwork and organizational skills.”

“Eh?”

“I said, thanks for making us breakfast.”

“Oh, you’re welcome, honey.”

“First I’ll have to drop out of school, but there’s really no problem with that in the long term. There are lots of self help books which say all you need to succeed is determination and a positive attitude.”

“What?”

“I said, did you sleep well, Grandma?”

“Oh, yes I did, thank you dear.”

I stuffed the remaining toast in my mouth, pecked her on the cheek, and went upstairs to brush my teeth. When I left for school, I said, “I know about your nicotine addiction, Grandma,” but she didn’t hear me at all. It was a windy day today.

Catharine Solomon

Catharine Solomon

Catharine is a first-year student at the University of Toronto.

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