A cacophony of sounds. A tumult of audio images screeching at you, in you, and like an unknowing father who has a new-born baby thrust into their hands, you have to somehow work out what to respond to. How to respond to it. How to make a joke, cover a slip, and avoid treacherous waters. This is called family communications. Being the youngest has its quirks – although you are the one that tends to mess up the most, step out of line, not toe the line but toe-punt it way over the goal post, there is a little bit of grace accorded to you. A grit-your-teeth-and-smile-as-your-kid-sister-messes-up…again. Yet sometimes it can be just as frustrating having to bear up under it all. While you’re navigating one potentially embarrassing situation which no doubt you initiated, your left ear is intercepting the dynamic barrage of words between two other members and your left-sided brain is trying to communicate with the right and decipher whether you can help to interrupt or avoid another gigantic exposure. And all the while no-one else seems to notice.
I’m conscious that I suffer from – not a unique – but thoroughly intrinsic illness: verbal diarrhoea. They tell me there’s meant to be a neurological contraption that intercepts your thoughts, processes them, considers what is going on external to your grey matter, before releasing it into your nervous system, making your tongue spasm and formulate a word (this could just be known as a brain). I’m not ashamed to admit that mine may be missing. It just didn’t grow when I was in the embryonic stage. Or else, I have meticulously eroded it by doing the same inane action again: speaking without thinking. Obviously my body took matters into its own hands and decided to rid me of what Nature assumed could be useful to me one day, like today.
Sadly there is a degree of stoicism involved in family communications. Everyone smiles and laughs “ah ha ha ha ha, so funny,” but as its family communications you know what they’re saying may involve some starred words. But you know, not one to rock the boat, you laugh an appeasing laugh, scamper upstairs and wonder when the next expose, involving you as culprit ‘A’ might just unfold.
Family Communications – pseudonym for ‘say stupid things and get exposed.’ Such fun.