I’ve got Wonder Woman hearing aids. Tiny little bits of invisible plastic tubing with the battery concealed behind my ear.
Alert–I’m always alert now. I can hear people creeping up on me. I can hear the clash of pans in the kitchen and the conversations of people at the other end of the dining room when we dine in the dining room of The Big House.*
I can hear sounds I like, too: birds singing, wind rustling, my granddaughter talking.
But mainly I like them because nobody can see them. They’re my secret. Not that I keep them secret. I tell people. In particular, I tell–and tell–my husband.
He has two hearing aids but they aren’t completely successful. And he takes them out when he comes home. So he needs Superman hearing aids, like mine.
I’ll keep at him.
*At Creamery brook Retirement Village