The Voiceless Wonder
If you hear a strangled whisper behind you, followed by a hoarse croak and hacking cough, never fear, it's not the grim reaper come for you early. It's just me trying to say hello. I. Have. Lost. My. Voice. It's gone. The first two days it was vaguely amusing. Kind of a reverse party trick. Five days in, it's wearing a little thin. Ah well, at least here, no one can hear me squeak.
News on the home front,
we're putting Rosa to sleep in Mari's old cot, in (and this is the clincher) Mari's room. Or Mari and Rosa's room as we now hope to call it. Picture the scenario the first night, after Rosa has been sharing a room with us for 9 months. I drag James to our bedroom; "You HAVE to come look a this!". (Stay with me here.) I stop dramatically in the darkened doorway. "Ready?" Dramatic pause... Click! I turn on the light! Our bedroom light is on! At night. For the first time in nine months. Now of course, my heart still skips a beat whenever I walk past the lighted bedroom at night. "Oh, god! We've left the light on! How is she still asleep?! No. Wait. Look! I can walk into my own bedroom at night. I can even.... oh I'm giddy with excitement... read a book in bed..." Oh, it's too much.
