Journal of a Living Lady #396
Nancy White Kelly
If I hadn’t heard it myself, I would have thought Buddy was growing deafer by the day. I had just settled into the den recliner for my morning cup of coffee when suddenly there was extremely loud commentary coming from the bedroom or kitchen. I waited, expecting Buddy to quickly turn down the sound on the television. We are having a hard time getting used to the confusing buttons on the remote of our new set. Shortly the indistinguishable racket stopped and Buddy popped into the den with a grin.
“What kind of joke was that?” he asked.
Puzzled, I scrunched my forehead.
“What are you talking about?”
“What did you put into the drawer?”
“Nothing,” I replied, wondering if he was losing his mind as well as his hearing.
“That talking gadget,” he explained.
Still confused, I pressed for intelligent clarification.
“You weren’t playing a joke?” he asked.
“No. What were you doing with the T.V.?”
“Nothing, “he replied. “I opened the knife drawer and all this talking started. Loud talking.”
“I know. I heard it too?”
Buddy went on to explain that when he opened the silverware drawer, the talking started. He slammed it shut and the talking stopped. Curious, he opened the drawer again and the fast-talking began blaring again like an excited game announcer.
I shook my head. Yes, I had heard it myself. Our only guess is that the knives and strainer in the drawer picked up some random radio signal from somewhere in the world. We laughed and it was the talk of the day.
I wouldn’t have believed it if I had not heard it myself.