We spent the first days of Pesach at a hotel in Lake Geneva, and I had laryngitis the entire time and couldn't speak above a whisper. If I tried to talk louder, it just came out as a little squeak. I spent a lot of time with the kids, of course, and some time during the first day, K looked up at me quizzically and said, "Why are you talking like that, Bubbie?"
I figured it would be too hard to explain "laryngitis", so I just told him, "I have a sore throat and my voice isn't working right now," in my high squeaky voice. K didn't say anything.
A few minutes later, I said, "K, should we go to the playground?"
K looked up at me and smiled, and in a high, squeaky voice, said, "OK, Bubbie!"
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment