Christmas Came Early for My Wife

I’m not sure I’ve ever seen my wife happier. Her smile is sparkling like the North Star. Christmas came early for her this year—and all it took was me losing my voice.

We went away for the weekend, and on the drive home Sunday, I noticed I was getting hoarse. I hadn’t been yelling or cheering, so it came out of nowhere. I wasn’t sick or having any other problems with allergies, either. Later that night, trying to talk took actual physical effort. I nearly hurt a rib just trying to tell her that I was going to go to bed.

When I stopped at my local coffee spot on Monday morning, it took everything I had just to croak out my simple order: “Medium hot coffee, extra cream.” My whole body shook from the strain. Forget about whispering, too—a whisper just sounds like a muddy bullfrog jumping out of my throat.

It’s a dangerous position to be in. I have zero leverage, I can’t talk back, I can’t express my feelings, and I can’t give my opinion. I was on a video conference call on Monday, and a coworker thought I was having a seizure when I tried to weigh in on a key team decision. I texted him right after that I was fine—just trying to project my voice so everyone could hear me.

My wife, though, is having an absolute ball with it.

“You’re not interested in watching football tonight, right? No Monday Night Football?” she asked, not waiting a second for a response. “Oh, awesome! Let’s stream Grey’s Anatomy, or Lioness, or one of those detective shows you normally hate. That’s wonderful!”

Next came the task list: “Let’s talk about the calendar this week and all the new chores I need you to do around the house.”

In fact, I’m starting to think she’s having too much fun. “Oh, you’re going to go pick up dinner for us? That’s so sweet. Just make sure there are no onions on my salad. Remember be sure to say ‘N-o O-n-i-o-n-s.’ Write it out so you don’t strain your voice.”

“You can’t talk? That’s okay, let me tell you all about my day. It was a whopper. I can go on and on and on…”

It feels like a bad 70s sitcom. Jack Tripper loses his voice on Three’s Company, and Janet and Chrissy have to translate for him so he doesn’t blow the big promotion. I don’t know if that was a real episode or not, but living through something similar, it sure feels like one.

My wife is enjoying my quiet way too much at my expense. I don’t seem to have any other symptoms, but I’m resting up and drinking plenty of water. I can’t wait to get a say again. I’m hopeful that I’ll be shouting from the treetops and doing my best Santa Claus impression—ho, ho, ho—soon enough.

“Hello, beautiful wife. You were saying…?”

Yes, yes… let’s hope soon enough.

Images by Pexels.