The Grunting You Hear Is A Dead Giveaway

I don't even notice that I do it. I can't hear a thing. But I'm told it goes on.

As I plopped my fat butt down onto the footstool after work today, my body making contact with the cushioned leather seat, I let out a big oooophtah.

Taking a deep breath in, I bent over to remove my rain boots, I'm told I accompanied that movement with a sound reminiscent of a Russian weight lifter. Struggling to pull my snug boots off, I let out a strained aaaayyngyaaah sound, as the boots finally gave way and my strangled feet were set free. The relief was so sweet from the eight spent in vise-grip crampedness that I couldn't help but let out an appreciative sigh reserved for a more private room.

Stretched out against the brown leather chair, I finally relaxed after being gone from home all day. I let the air out of my body like a slowly deflating balloon. Audibly. And my children had to let me know about it:

Mom. You can tell you're getting old because you make a noise every time you do something, just like old people do. You sound like a dead person trying to get up.

What? I do not.

Yes, Mom. You do.

And with the snap of a finger, my three angels descended upon me like jackals surrounding a fresh kill. They continued:

It's like you have to announce every move you make, Mom. Pulling off your shoes, hanging up your coat, unloading the dishwasher, making the beds, carrying the laundry upstairs. It's ALL THE TIME, Mom.

Really? I announce everything every time I do something? And this bothers you? All of you? 

It drives us nuts. You're old.

How much does it get on your nerves? I mean, does it get on your nerves so much you'd give anything to not hear it?

Mom. Seriously. Have you ever heard yourself parallel park?

Hm. Well, then, seems to me this is all easily fixed. If I make annoying sounds with every buttload of work I do around here, how about YOU all empty the dishwasher, make the beds, carry the laundry, take off my shoes ... Voila. No more grunts and groans from your gramma mama.

::crickets::

What I thought. Now, if you all will excuse me. I've got to get up off this chair and start some dinner ... nnnnnnyyghaaa ... one of you boys help me up, will you?

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