Yesterday, I took Abu to the grocery. He loves going to the grocery because he gets to sit in the grocery cart while I push him around the store. We were doing this and and we were having some random conversation about buying Pepsi and Gatorade and brands of cereal, in general some nice father-son bonding, when half way through, he started squeaking instead of speaking normally. I looked at him with raised eyebrows.
“Papa, I am losing my voice,” he squeaked.
“Okay,” I said. This is not the first time he’d done this, so I just continued with shopping, as if nothing had happened.
“…..,” said Abu. Basically he just moved his lips, and no voice came out.
“I have no idea what you are saying, Abu.”
“…..,” mouthed Abu again. He even made some gestures that I did not understand. I shook my head.
Abu decided that this was not working, so magically, he got some of his voice back.
In a very low whisper, he said, “Papa, I …….” I did not understand the rest of what he said as he said it too softly.
“What?”
He gestured for me to bring my ear closer to his mouth. As I bent forward, he pointed upwards. This is a two-level grocery, and we could see half of the first floor from the ground floor where we were standing. He was pointing towards the first floor and whispered, “Papa, I think it is gone somewhere there.”
“Your voice has gone somewhere on the first floor, that is why you are unable to speak?”
He nodded his head vigorously, like a proud teacher who has just made his student understand some complex concept. So I gave him an understanding nod and continued with shopping.
He pulled my sleeve, and when I looked at him, gestured me again to come closer.
“Papa,” he whispered.
It was really difficult to hear this low whisper in the crowded, noisy grocery. He was trying to help along with hand gestures.
“Papa, I will t.. s…….. ….” the last part was unintelligible.
“You will what?”
“t.. s…….. …,” accompanied with one had going around another.
“You will tie something?”
Again the delighted nodding of the head. This had now pretty much turned into a dump charades game.
“Papa I will tie something w… a r…, ” now an action like throwing out a fishing line and reeling it in.
“You will tie something with a rope?”
Correct.
Rabad was away for a 2-hour drawing class. Meetu was off working (i.e. watching movies). So I was in no hurry to finish off the shopping. So in the middle of the grocery aisle, our game continued. Probably in his excitement, Abu whispered a little louder than before, so I got the whole sentence:
“Papa I will tie something with a rope and then pull it.”
Huh?!
“What?”
He is still talking in a whisper, but I have my ear close to his mouth, and the music system is playing some sad, soft number instead of a loud “Sinngh is Kinng” remix, so I can hear him (although barely).
“Papa I will tie something with a rope. Something that the voice likes. Then I will pull it. And the voice will come behind it, and I will catch it.”
Glad to have that cleared out, we continued with shopping. At the checkout counter, I was pretty much composing this blog post in my head, and noticed Abu throwing his imaginary rope towards the first floor and pulling it in.
Sure enough, by the time I had paid the bill, Abu says: “Papa, did you notice that I can talk now?” Yup! “I tried that idea and it worked!”
Maybe I should give Scott Adams this advice for his voice problems.
Yesterday in the afternoon, I was walking Rabad to the daycare. It was sunny and hot.
