Grandma’s Glorious Noise

I knew my mother couldn’t hear quite so well anymore when she described the hubbub my three kids were making as “a glorious noise.” One was shouting about his scoring goal in the soccer game while the two younger ones whined about having to sit in the stands for over an hour. It was the second time I broached the subject of hearing aids Manchester with her, and this time she agreed to get one.

A week later she was back to enjoying so many things that had grown difficult. She could hear birdsong again and picked up her habit of listening to audio books while he cooked dinner. One thing wasn’t so great about regaining her full range of hearing. Grandma’s “glorious noise” turned into “a bunch of wild monkeys” and she had to threaten the kids with no cookies to get them to turn down their volume.

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