Catherine Berchtold

Don't Be Fooled, Believe Your Gut For the nine years of our marriage, my husband has claimed near deafness and pretended he couldn’t hear me when I called.  The total look of innocence and confusion on his face always kept me from knocking him upside the head.  That little penlight of doubt stilled my hand. Since our wedding, I have tried several methods to reach him.  Shouting did no good.  According to him, my voice was too soft to penetrate the walls.  An intercom system through out the entire house was the perfect solution.  But it seemed, at the precise moment I used it, he was running water, flushing the toilet, coughing, yawning or sneezing and claimed he couldn’t hear me.   My frustration came to the point of explosion one day when we were in a rush to leave the house.  In an attempt to give him instructions, I stood at the top of the stairs and called down to him. No response. After all these years, I decided to test his hearing problem for myself.  Without changing my location or the pitch of my voice, I called, "Do you think we’ll have time for sex before we leave?" Before I could finish the sentence, he skidded to a stop at the bottom of the stairs, breathing heavy, with a goofy look on his face.  In disbelief, he asked, "What did you say?" My eyes became mere slits and my upper lip curled.  "I said, you’re in big trouble, Mister."

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