Mostly True Memoirs
THE GROWN SON MUMBLES
The Grown Son mumbles.
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?