I feel as though I am living with the heir apparent to the Cosell Kingdom. That’s right, the late Howard Cosell’s estate. At any given moment throughout the day I am provided with a running commentary of what I’m doing, how I sound (more on that later) and any other random piece of information I might (or might not) find of interest.
As an example, we’ve had a bit of a cough thing going around our house this week. I find myself coughing more and sneezing more. I then hear, “Cough”…”Blow Nose”…”Bess You, Baby”. It’s like living on a reality show set.
Then I’ll drop something and hear, “Uh oh” in case I wasn’t aware that I dropped the lid to the pot on the tile floor. There’s also “dog”, “cwacker”, “muuuk (milk for those who don’t speak the native tongue)” and my favorite “twash twuck”.
There is no pride with this little sportscaster around. I’ll be carrying her up to bed and not even realize that the soda I’d just swallowed had a bit of an effect on <ahem> my system. And, then I’ll hear it, “Buuhp”. No, that wasn’t the sound I made, that’s how my little prognosticator says it.
It could be worse. She could have access to the internet and have a blog herself.