The time came when Daddy needed hearing aids. He was fitted for his new ears but had quite a time with all the little buttons on his remote. In no time at all, he had them all messed up. As his hearing declined, we made occasional visits to get his aids adjusted.
Daddy had plenty of hearing loss, but he also had an ample supply of ear wax. Sometimes it was hard to tell if he just couldn’t hear or if his hearing aids were clogged. One night Daddy asked me if I had a pin handy. Nope. He studied me pretty hard as he took out one of his hearing aids. Then I realized he was looking at my earring. Uh-oh. That look was pretty serious, and I knew what it meant.
I cringed as I complied and handed him my earring. He proceeded to stick the post of it into his hearing aid to dig out the thick brown wax that had set up like concrete. When he handed the earring back to me, I reluctantly held it in my hand as if gangrene had already set in and my hand would rot off.
I stood there a few moments and tried not to appear overly anxious to make my escape. In no time at all I had that earring post soaking in alcohol.
The next time Daddy eyed my earring suspiciously, I had a pin handy.