If She Could Only Hear How Ridiculous She Sounded

, , , , , | Related | March 19, 2019

I was nine when my parents divorced, and I chose to stay with my father. We used to live about 350 miles away from his parents’ home, and then, after the separation, we moved and we were only 75 miles away.

So, every week, for about two years, my grandparents came to our place from Monday afternoon to Friday morning, supposedly to watch after me all week long, and on Friday evening, my father and I went to theirs every weekend.

Soon, that routine became pretty tiresome. For example, my father had to lend his bedroom to his parents, hence, he had to sleep on the sofa in the living room. The walls were quite thick between the two rooms, but pretty much every evening, around nine, my grandmother came back from the bedroom to ask us, gently but firmly, to turn down the sound of our TV. The reason she used was always the same: “It bothers [[Grandfather]; he can’t sleep.” Sometimes, she came back a second time, a little bit angrier, saying they were still hearing the TV, or that the TV was loudly humming. It wasn’t; two yards away from the set, my father and I couldn’t even hear the sound anymore because we had to basically shut it down not to disturb her sleep. Yes, hers. Because my grandfather never came to complain at all, not once. Men in my family are very heavy sleepers, prone to doze off in less than two minutes, TV on or not! In fact, we had to wait until SHE was finally sleeping to put the sound back on, even moderately.

About ten years later, a few months after my grandfather passed away, I had to stay at my grandmother’s for one night. Then, she forbade me to use my portable CD player before sleeping — even with headphones — because she could “hear the buzzing sound it makes through the wall.”

Yeah, sure, Grandma.

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