with the tubbiest tummy,
the chunkiest thighs,
the widest feet,
the cumbersomesque calves,
big, bigger, biggest breasts,
Gee! Yes G!
and the hugest hands...
I get blessed
with the smallest ear canal?
Of all the trials of ageing, the one I hate the most is
becoming increasingly deaf.
The wrinkles, the sagging, the stretch marks,
my prickly chin I can cope with.
The deafness I can't!
At a party last night we were talking to an old police colleague
of Ted's. Who was saying the only regret of his career was losing his hearing due to being
close to a bomb blast. I had already noticed he had a hearing aid deep in his ear.
Questioning him in the manner a detective would be proud,
I managed to ascertain (police speak) that he had been to the self same guy I had!
Drat! The bloke who had decreed my canals were too flaming small.
Call me vain I don't care, and in part I think you'd be right.
However as much as the pop singers seem to enjoy sporting a big pink
ear piece thingy. Count me out!
At lip reading classes, I sit, an unwilling pupil if ever there was one.
'Look I don't want to do exercises without voice and make and watch others make lip shapes!'
' I just want to fast forward to being able to see what folk are saying
on the balcony of Buck House or sat watching tennis at Wimbledon.'
It's not a lot to ask after all! Is it?
Bit like, if ever I wanted to learn to play the piano,
I wouldn't want to practice scales or the like.
I'd just want to be able to sit down and play the odd concerto or two.
In the meantime on my special Leo birthday
Wish List I have...
An ear trumpet.
Yes, you heard right!
I kid you not, I would be happier sporting one than