No, He Doesn't Need His Hearing Aids

"Are you going to bed, honey?"

"No, dear, I'm going to bed."

Did that make sense, I wondered? 

"Do you want some ice cream first?"

"That's probably a good idea," he called in to me. "Just don't make it too hot."

I looked toward the door, where I could see him pulling off his shirt. I wondered if I'd ever made his ice cream too hot. Then I wondered what he thought I had said. I went in to find out. I went to the door and watched him for a minute.

"Was it too hot last time?"

"Yeah. Just put some extra water in it this time. And give me the nighttime kind. Do we have the berry flavor?"

Now I figured it out. He's been coughing.

"Theraflu nighttime?"

"Yeah. That's it."

"Okay. Coming right up."

So it's not ice cream. It doesn't sound much like ice cream. He doesn't want to admit that he can't hear without his hearing aids. I don't hear as clearly as I used to anymore either, but I don't own hearing aids. I just say "huh?" a lot. Maybe I'll steal his and have them re-calibrated for myself. Then I suppose he'll want them back. After all, they're his. Meanwhile, he'll get what he thinks I said instead of dessert. 

Excuse me. I'm going to have some ice cream.