Silence of the Dad

You know that tickle you get in the back of your throat?  The one that says "a storm is brewing son."  Well, I got the tickle around Wednesday of last week.  By Thursday I was pretty much mute.  My voice had become what was described by others as that of a "frail, old woman". ... and that was at it's loudest.  Month end at work only made things worse as I found myself inundated with phone calls, each one telling me how terrible I sounded and yet keeping me on the line for a continued conversation that stripped away more of my vocal ability.  Well doing business with out a voice is nothing compared to parenting with out a voice.  The past 5 days or so I've found that improvised sign language is not effective with 2 year olds.  The international sign for "stop" (outstretched arm and flat palm) just receives a high five in response.  The "come here" wave equates to them running away and giggling.  Never mind asking them to pick up after themselves. ... it's best if you just collect things yourselves.  And a whispered "no" is just a waste of everybodies time.  Needless to say I'm looking forward to my voice coming back some day, because a dad has no bite. ... he relies almost solely on that bark of his.