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No voice, no fun!Posted Friday, February 25, 2011, at 4:43 PM
Before I get to this week's column, I need to address something from my last column. I had some calls and e-mails wanting to know who my father is. He is Johnny Grubbs. Dad went to Heaven three years ago this month. So, you guys that knew Dad when you were young soldiers, thank you for reading my column and your interest in my loving father.
Now, on to the business at hand.
It finally happened. Never thought it would and it has been tough. Those of you who know me well and those of you who are getting to know me, know I love to talk. I haven't verified it with Mom, but
I think I probably was born talking. At least I'm sure I started shortly after my birth.
I recently came down with what I call my Februaryitis. If I get a cold, it will be in February. I started sneezing one day at work and actually thought it was just an allergy from some boxes I opened. Then the next day my throat got sore.
I had my tonsils out when I was twelve or thirteen and have not had a bad sore throat since. But, ouch, this sore throat hurt. That night I could hardly wait till morning and my first cup of hot coffee. That coffee felt sooo good on my throat. It went like that for a couple days then I started getting hoarse. My voice stayed hoarse until Friday night. When I got home from work that evening, I started to say something and nothing
came out. I tried a couple more times, still no voice. Then it dawned on me, I have laryngtitis! That is a strange feeling trying to talk and nothing comes out.
I started remembering when we were kids and Mom got laryngitis frequently. Oh, how my brothers loved that! They would take off down the street to a place called Little Jo's Cafe and the Dexter creek where,
back then, kids went swimming. Mom would be on the porch trying to call out to them to keep them from going. Of course, since she couldln't talk, they didn't hear her, but they knew she was trying to get their attention. They were just ignoring her. Their excuse was "But Mom, we didn't hear you." Oh, they heard when they got home. I don't believe those boys ever learned their lessons.
I did learn a good thing about texting. When you can't talk you can still text. I sent a text to my two daughters and told them with a big 'lol', "Your mother has layrngitis and you're not here to enjoy it."
You don't know how many times I tried to talk and couldn't. After three days and nights I tried once again to speak and I croaked something out. The best I could think of trying was singing "Mary had a Little Lamb." It was baaad. So, I thought if I rested my voice overnight it would get better and it did. As I write this column, if I talk for fifteen minutes I start choking, so if there are any of you out there who want to get back at me, now's your chance while I can't out-talk you.
See ya next time somewhere in a "korner."
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Kathleen is a resident of Dexter. She was born in Indiana, but her parents moved their family back to the Dexter area when she was three. Other than three years she and her husband, Collin, lived in St. Charles, Mo. and ten years in Birmingham, Alabama, she has spent her life in Dexter. As you can tell, Kathleen is a people person and believes in giving credit to whom credit is due. Thus, the reason for her hero/heroine column every other week in Kathleen's Korner. As you can tell, she also like to have fun, most of the time at her own expense. Kathleen (Grubbs) is a 1964 graduate of Dexter High School and invites her friends to her "Korner."