Voiceless, Part I

This morning, I greeted the world with…silence.

The sore throat I’ve had for the past three mornings has apparently progressed into something more dysphonic.  (Ooh, big word!  Thank you, Wikipedia.)

So, just for fun, I thought I’d keep track of the things I want to say today that can’t quite make it past my uncooperative vocal chords:

“Stop messing around and Go. Get. Dressed!”

(This was replaced by loud clapping – to get his attention, a tug on his PJs shirt, and pointing toward the bedroom.)

“Did you pack a snack?”

(Meh, if he forgot it, he forgot it.  He’ll survive.)

“Absolutely amazing and astounding, something that is brought about by a miracle.”

(In answer to Nicolas’s question, “Mom, what does miraculous mean?”  I just stared at him with my eyebrows raised and whispered, Unnnhhh.  “Oh yeah.  Sorry, Mom.”)

“Have a good day!  Learn lots!  Don’t bite your teacher on the leg.*”

(I blew kisses instead.)

“Why are you washing your Legos in the bathroom sink?”

(More clapping, and a whispered, “What are you doing??”  Apparently, he thought wetting them would make them easier to pull apart.)

“Hello, I’d like to make an appointment to see the doctor this morning.”

(After a choke-whispered phone conversation with my sister, “Sick. No voice. Please call doctor. Make appointment,” and an email with details, my fabu little sis came through for me.)

And so to the doctor’s office I head.  Will there be a Part II?  We shall see…

*My Dad’s standard farewell in the mornings when we were kids.  Funny how your parents creep into your lexicon as you get older, isn’t it?