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I may have a hearing problem. It does not have much to do with a hearing loss, though.

Actually, it could be considered a gift which I have acquired over the years of being a wife and mother. More precisely, it is a real knack of tuning out when I feel the need for it. My family calls it selective hearing. Kevin delights in announcing every occasion when I hear only what I want to hear.

Go back with me, if you will, over 20 years ago. On a cold winter night, with the furnace howling constantly to keep our little trailer house warm, I could still hear a baby whimpering down the hall. And even if I was washing dishes, I could hear a youngster calling "Mommy!" outside. I relied on my keen 'mommy ears' to protect and nurture my children.

The children are older and much more capable of watching out for themselves. I have become quite lax when it comes to listening for danger. I can't really say that I am proud of that, but it is true. My antennae have been pulled back and I am not as concerned about leaving the basement door open, either!

Now, instead of hearing every little thing, I have become good at sifting through the drone and picking out what I think is the good stuff. The important information, if you will. The issue is that to my family, I am only halfway listening. And Kevin says that it is more like selective hearing; I pick out what I want to hear!

I may need to have my hearing checked. Or maybe, I should seek counseling. It could be that there are underlying issues that are affecting the way I hear. If I can learn to deal with these issues, then I will be able to hear everything!

I would like to take Kevin with me to the professional counselor. I feel that it would be beneficial for him to take a look at a weakness that he has. I call it selective smelling. It seems as though he has a real difficult time noticing how much he smells like a barn when he comes into the house.

Worse yet; he doesn't think that the barn smell is a bad smell. But, he wrinkles his nose at the infuser I have set out recently to diffuse the barn smell. He insists that the 'good' scent of the infuser is a 'bad' smell. He does not tolerate perfumes very well, and I understand that. But, to feel comfortable and unconcerned in his barn smell has me concerned.

Between my selective hearing and Kevin's selective smelling, we will surely enjoy each other's company when it is just him and me in our old age. I will sit far enough away from him so I don't have to smell him and then wonder why I can't hear him. He will be glad to keep his distance for my perfume will upset him and he can say whatever he wants about me and I just won't hear it!

I better see about that counselor.[[In-content Ad]]

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