I remember when I was a child Mum left me with Uncle Frank for a weekend.
I thought he was a weird guy but I didn’t say that to him because that would be rude.
He said a lot of stuff to me though. He said, “Can you hear that? They’re speaking! They’re speaking about me!”
I couldn’t hear anything. He thought the neighbours were making a fuss about his hair, but there was a brick wall, another brick wall, and a fence between us and them, and they weren’t home.
When Mum returned from her holiday Uncle Frank said, “The neighbours are talking about me, but your child can’t hear a darn thing.”
So Mum took me to the doctor. She said, “My son’s hearing’s on the blink, along with the rest of him.”
I didn’t have anything wrong with me, except I did have a minor hearing issue, so I had plugs inserted in my ears and was given a sort of shower cap visor to wear for three months to stop water getting in my ears. Meanwhile Uncle Frank went about with his day with superhuman hearing, getting praise for being able to spot people talking about his hair from a mile away.
He didn’t even have much hair. He kept cutting it off with toe nail clippers and eating it, saying it was protein escaping the body. Which is sort of true.
I said, “Wear a hat, and stop eating your hair.”
He was like, “Stop talking about me and get better hearing.”
I got taken to the doctor again by Mum. A second round of plugs and another plastic cap on my head for three months to make a waterfall over my ears.
Uncle Frank got found out last year when said he heard my Aunt Gable talking about him and his hair, while she was in Japan and he was in Beaumaris.
Now his married to his psychologist. Which is a weird practice, but they’re happy. So that’s good. I don’t have to wear that water helmet anymore. So that’s good. Mum still borrows it. She says it reminds her of visiting Victoria Falls. I don’t know who that is, but I guess it’s a good thing. So happy ending all around.