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January 21, 2019

A visit to the audiologist is always more interesting with an eleven year old grandson in tow. For my annual hearing evaluation, I was asked to bring someone whose voice I was familiar with to do some of the testing. I chose Nathan because he talks fast, and the pitch of his voice is in the range where most of my hearing loss occurs. I figured he’d be perfect for the part, and I was right, in more ways than one. I paid him with a Big Mac dinner and a cinnamon bun from Tim Horton’s. The original plan called for ice cream at Coldstone Creamery, but when we got there, no ice cream was to be found. The young woman who waited on us told me that the company took it out for some reason unbeknownst to her, to which I responded that I didn’t even know her, and she was breaking my heart with the news.

So on to the audiologist. A little backstory is in order here. Nathan’s father is very tactile in his interactions with the world. When he was Nathan’s age, he had to touch everything within reach. During Advent when we had family devotions, we were always chastising him for sticking his fingers in the hot wax from the candles and dripping it all over the table. He couldn’t walk an aisle in a store without handling everything in sight. He would poke and prod his little sister till we told him if he touched her once more, he would face consequences, whereupon he would deliberately lay his index finger on her arm and say, “Touch!”

So at the audiologist, I’m in the little soundproof booth listening to the beeps and boops of the testing equipment, and through the glass I can see the audiologist right before me, and behind her sitting in a chair against the back wall is Nathan, waiting as patiently as he can. He turns to read the framed poster on the wall, and of course, touches it. A little too energetically, it turns out. It was hung by the frame resting on two screws in the wall. As he touches it, he accidentally lifts it from one of the screws, causing it to flop at a crazy angle while his eyes get as big as saucers. He looks at me with a panicked look, and frantically tries to put it back in place while I am doing my best to keep from laughing out loud. When he finally gets it in place, he turns my way with a cheesy smile and a thumbs up. All is well. 

A few minutes later as I am escorted into a different room to talk with a company rep about the possibility of new devices, the audiologist casually says, “That’s not the first time that picture has come off the wall.” Busted!

Parents have to be more disciplinary than do grandparents, so instead of getting into trouble, we had a good laugh about it. I suspect I laughed more than Nathan. It’s been a good day, and a couple hours laughing with my grandson is a big part of why I am thankful tonight.