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   Tuesday, June 22, 2004  
We live in fear of an OSHA inspection at our house as the noise level is consistently deafening. From the morning radio routines through the day’s use of our primitive intercom system, a/k/a yelling up the stairs, our house is alive with the sound of sound. If sound were measured on a color scale, we would hover in the orange to red ranges throughout the day. It is, however, at night that the decibel busting occurs as everyone in our house either snores, talks in their sleep or both. A midnight walk down the dim hallway to the bathroom is like being in the green room before auditions or attending a performance of some sort of experimental theater. “Judge, stop helping me!” urges one, “I’m a little glowing friend” offers another, as if in response a third offers, “C’mon coach, more laps?!” while a steady undertone of snoring provides the score. Of course, not to be left out, the cat, who has spent all day in suspended animation while everyone is at work, school, soccer or dance, stomps around with the floorboard splintering gait of a hobnail booted clog dancer checking to make sure that none of these conversations include a reference to birds.
   posted by Andrea at 10:05 AM

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