Muckshuck

Last night was our first outing as a family since I was injured in March. It's been a long time coming. We met some of our church members at an Irish pub in downtown Knoxville. 

Charley gobbled down a cheeseburger (and I don't mean a little one), some French fries, and polished off two Dr. peppers (no ice, of course), and then did some rocking down to some fantastic fiddle and guitar music by some of the locals. It was the most fun we've had in over six months. 

On the way home Charley said, "Muckshuck."

"You want a what?"

"Muckshuck."

Brad and I looked at each other.  I know we haven't been out in a while, but geeze, he just ate his way through the pub. We both shook our heads. Like, sure, we've just spent X # of $ on the three of us, now he wants to get a milkshake.

"Ain't no way, Bub," Brad said. 

He turned up the volume. Maybe we hadn't heard him. "MUCKSHUCK."

"Shouting at me is NOT going to get you a milkshake," I shouted.

Well, that did it. Charley leaned forward in his seat and with a defiant flick of the wrist pointed at the radio. "MUCKSHUCK!"

Oh. Lord. "You mean music?"

Shoved a Beauty and the Beast CD at me.  "Yeah. Muckshuck."

"Would that be chocolate or vanilla?"

"Mo-om."

"Well, why didn't you say so?"

Thing is, he DID say so. With his own special brand of the tangled tongue, he all but spelled it out. It wasn't his fault that it took us three times to get it. I have to give him credit though, he was mighty patient with us and just kept repeating himself, until finally, it was too much and the CD provided the visual we needed.

There was only one thing to do. We played that CD, and all three of us sang at the top of our lungs, all the way home. It made up for us thinking he wanted a MUCKSHUCK.

It happens to all of us, tangled tongue or not. Someone, somewhere, hears us say something, and misinterprets what we say. 

Just because we think someone is listening doesn't mean they are. And just because they shake their heads up and down doesn't mean they get it. At least not always.

How easy is it to be misunderstood? To misunderstand? 

Thanks Son, for the reminder.