The Grown Son Mumbles

Mostly True Memoirs

The Grown Son Mumbles


The Grown Son mumbles.

It drives me insane.

Which is probably why he does it.

This morning he mumbled at me from the bathroom.

“What?” I asked, “You need sugar cubes?”

Sugar cubes?

“No!” he shouted, and then mumbled his request louder.

“I can hear you,” I sighed, “But you’re mumbling. I can’t understand you.”

He clearly enunciated that he was not mumbling.

And then he mumbled some more.

I shrugged and started to walk away because the conversation was becoming too annoying.

It was then that he decided to speak like a normal person.

Shaving cream.

He needed shaving cream.

Why didn’t he just say so in the first place?

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