Brilliant inventions

So my maternal skills may not be the very best.

For instance, when my thirteen year old daughter, who is best known for her ability lately to roll her eyes and go into lengthy diatribes on how little I know and how lame I am in general, advised me she was losing her voice...

I said, "Well, then honey, don't talk. It will come back faster if you don't use it."

Which, by the way, is totally true. Being a big choir geek, I know that the vocal cords must be rested or they will stop working. So resting them... totally valid.

The happy dance I did at her silence probably wasn't entirely helpful, but dancing is good for the health. It builds up endorphins and is exercise...

And when I sent her to school and figured if it was really bad... they would send her back...

Well, I have to go to WORK.

And she had no fever, said her throat didn't hurt and was otherwise okay...

And if her mysterious loss of voice was passed along to other kids... really? Don't we want to silence adolescent America? I mean if they spent as much time listening as they did speaking...

The teachers should have sent me a thank-you letter. And maybe chocolates.

Guiltily, I did shuffle her into the doctor's office. Guiltily because part of me wondered if I wanted to FIX it... I mean, it would run its course... why rush it?

Strep.

So I got to give a lecture on washing her hands and not putting things in her mouth...

Of which she was silent and attentive.

Because she has no voice.

Her facial expression didn't look pleased but the loss of voice rendered her speechless.

Having done my parental bit and lectured her... and having not been interrupted twenty times and diverted from my topic, I felt much better about the whole thing.

And I think from her furrowed brow I could also surmise that she really got it and was ruminating on my words.

Or she was pissed she couldn't tell me off.

Either way... I feel better about the whole thing.

Off to shove more zeeepack down her throat. And chamomile.

And then to enjoy the fun of her company.

Yeah, she sure is fun when incapable of speech.

And I am drawing up plans for the adolescent mute button.

Don't worry. I won't forget you when I am famous.