My Laryngitis Proves Minnie Mouse is Both Curious and Important

Before two days ago whenever I talked about losing my voice,  I only meant it metaphorically. I was merely a creative spirit with a few things to say, a constipated artist, trying to figure out how to release my stuff. Oh, the pain of it.

In retrospect, I just should have been glad I didn’t sound like a mouse.minnie_07

Yesterday, hurling down I-95, bivouacked in the confines of the family vehicle, I had a million questions. My family told me how cute I sounded.

I’ve never been a big fan of the cute. Feeling totally dis-empowered I nicknamed myself Minnie Mouse before anyone else had the chance to. Instead of putting a giant bow on my head, I made myself more “cute” by addressing them all as “Mickey.” It was better than playing with a tank of helium, I tell ya.

The girls laughed then fell asleep. Dave laughed (I think) and settled into the serious task of driving. We didn’t talk for the entire depth of North Carolina. He seemed remarkably okay with this.

The only thing that was bumper to bumper were the questions that were getting backed up in my mind. Until then I seriously thought I was the quiet one.

When this morning rolled around, although sympathetic and kind, understandably my family didn’t much empathize with my current handicap. To top it off I was horrified to find out that overnight my ability to vocalize had diminished even further.

I stood at the top of the stairs and opened my mouth to holler down to them. Nothing. A few seconds later they yelled “goodbye,” and all I could hear was the emptiness of the backdoor shut behind them.

So a few breakfasts were skipped, teeth un-brushed, and  papers forgotten. I never realized I was so important.

Today the question is, who is the boss of this suburban parcel to which we are assigned? The Labradoodle or me? First Lily dug a giant hole in the yard. Later she ran across the street in pursuit of a wild cat.

“Bad dog” flying out of my mouth sounded ridiculous. I hissed a command to “come” in her direction. Her eyes lifted more in response to the vibrations than the vocalism of it, and set on something beyond me towards the parameter. She thinks she is the new alpha.

I understand now why Minnie was always so dolled up. Tomorrow if I can’t talk, in order to get some attention, I’m going to put on a polka dotted dress, glue on some fake eyelashes and make the questionable fashion decision to wear dark tights with white shoes.  Maybe Lily will at least respond?

Comments

  1. says

    This post was precious; I can just picture you in a huge bow, fake eyelashes and huge white shoes! Take care of that throat, sugar… maybe some lemon tea with honey.

  2. says

    Oh, my. I agree with Jane, lemon tea with honey (a shot of bourbon?) should make your throat feel better. Did I tell you that my god-dog is a labradoodle and she rules her roost? !!!!!

  3. says

    How would you like a voice that causes strangers to ask on the phone, “is your mother home”? You can’t believe how fast you can get a telemarketer off of the phone by responding, “no, she’s dead”. Click.

    When I’m not feeling aggravated I just say “I am the mother”.
    Hope you’re better.

    • Margo says

      I get “is your mother home?” even on non-minnie days. sometimes I pretend I’m the dopey babysitter. Also I get rid of them, if they’re on to me as a MOM by saying we’re moving out of the country next week…. click :)

  4. says

    Have you seen the film “An Education” yet? If not, you must. The first reason is that you would like it( I feel sure) and secondly that the main character is called Minnie Mouse by her bo.
    Drink some hot lemon and honey and get out those false eyelashes.;-)

  5. Margo says

    thanks to all of you for the suggestions! I’m still squeaking, but it’s a big day because I’m going to get fresh highlights- on way home I’ll buy new tea and rent movies! No fake eyelashes, but I put on mascara :)

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