Really, the timing was impeccable.
I’m pretty sure the magician is responsible.
It certainly couldn’t be the constant drainage running down my throat over this last week as allergies were all the rage.
I has nothing to do with the late nights I spent cleaning and organizing my office and the five years of accumulated dust I inhaled (sidenote: funny how that is the exact age of my oldest child).
I can’t blame the birthday party planning stress. My mother was around to help with the kids so I could get it done.
And surely having another adult to talk to this week during my mother’s visit couldn’t have added that much strain to my vocal cords. In fact, I think she’s talked more with my kids than me.
Nope. I’m certain somewhere between the rope trick and my now-five-year-old son helping him transform scarves into an umbrella, the magician secretly pulled a disappearing act on my voice.
It is so bad, I cannot even make the horrible frog-like croaking those with laryngitis typically can.
I am reduced to instant messaging those sitting five feet from me.
Sadly, that doesn’t work with my kids.
I have learned my husband and mother suck at practical charades, but Bobbi rules and the kids aren’t half bad.
Meanwhile, I will be thankful my mother is here to verbally communicate with my children.
So if you call and a voice not mine answers my phone or if you hear a whistle* instead of “hello” – my voice is still MIA post magician act.**
Maybe he’s waiting for the check to clear….
*When I learned I could still whistle, my family accused me of faking. Bobbi, the linguist, later explained whistling is just blowing air – vocal cords are not required.
**It should be noted, the magician was a huge hit with the kids, but that will be talked about in the birthday post – as soon as my fingers are no longer tired from having to type to my family just to “talk”.
* * *
How do you cope when your voice pulls a disappearing act?