“I CAN’T HEAR-RRRRRR YOUUUUUU!” Jerry’s voice thunders so loud that anyone within a mile radius requires hearing protection.
We had just parked at a tile store to check out tile for our new atrium or garden room, or as Jerry calls it, “Magic Room.” Jerry says he envisions our patio enclosed in glass with indirect lighting and huge potted plants. He sees it in his mind and it will be magical.
To make the magic come alive, we need the right kind of tile for the Magic Room’s floor.
Before entering the store, we stop to check out the tile samples displayed in the parking lot. I say something to Jerry, (I can’t remember what I said as my memory is short, but whatever it was, Jerry didn’t hear). His hearing is not like it used to be. At one time, when we were younger, I could whisper to my son something like, “Don’t tell your dad, but we have ice cream in the freezer.” Jerry, far from earshot in another room, would call out, “Ice cream! What flavor?”
