Twenty dollars, seventy nine cents (aka $27.09)

I was at Wal-Mart the other day and I bought a couple of items. I get to the register, I get out my wallet to pay. The cashier tells me the total, (that I hear as $20.79) I get out the exact change because I don't want to break a 5 dollar bill for 79 cents. The cashier is looking at it. She counts it. She is puzzled. She actually doesn't know what to do.
Oh. I must have misunderstood, I leaned over to see the total on the display screen, I see its .09. Not a big deal, I gave her too much, I say I'm sorry. She hands it back to me, I give her back 20.09. We should be good now.
Yeah right.
You got a hearing impaired person here, who apparently cant read either. Poor cashier. (to her credit she was very nice throughout the entire ordeal.) I can see the people behind me trying to figure out what my problem is. I'm embarrassed now. Why didn't I just say I was hearing impaired? I don't know. Too many years living in the hoh closet. I was caught off guard I guess. Anyway, the girl says she needs more money, I know this by her gesture, still not really understanding, just guessing. So I give her a 5 dollar bill. Okay. That should take care of it what ever it is, lets just get on with this. I want to get out of here.
Nope.
She still needs two more dollars. Finally the first thing I've truly understood her say. I get my wallet out, give her another 5.
Its done.
I walk out studying my receipt and it all becomes clear. She said $27.09. NOT $20.79
All of this happened because I heard seventy instead of seven. Two little letters caused that much agony.
I may not be able to stop it from happening again but I can keep from prolonging my agony.

"All I think about is ears." How true.

I've been doing some catching up on a new blog I've been following Big Teeth & Clouds. I came across a sentence in one of her blogs that I think describes what it's like to be the mother of a hearing impaired child. All I think about is ears. Every thing is ears. Can he hear that, does he know whats going on, is he going to get hurt doing things that require hearing, is he being teased, are his hearing aids working, is his language still advancing at an age appropriate rate, does he really understand, he should be hearing that why isn't he hearing that?...the questions go on and on.
Now White Cloud and myself, our children are still young, one might think that as our children get older they would take over that responsibility of thinking about their ears and we could relax. I don't think so. Take my mom for example, she still thinks about my ears. She knows my hearing, or lack there of, better than anyone, probably better than I do. To this day, if I'm not hearing the way she thinks I should be, my mom will still ask me, "Are your hearing aids working, or are you just tired?". I'm 32 years old. I've had my aids for 30 years as of last month. My mom still thinks ears. I don't worry about what I hear. I just hear it or I don't. I get aggravated about it, but I don't WORRY about it.
Our children are lucky to have us. I'm lucky to have my mom. We are probably the only people on earth who will, after 30 years, still care if our children are hearing well. That's a special bond that I can only share with my mom. She worries about my ears, even at 32. Why? It's simple really. All she ever thought about was ears.