Amanda Lamb: Selective listening

People always say teenagers have selective hearing. You ask them to do something, they don't do it and then pretend like they never heard you ask in the first place. Recently, I have adopted this with my kids when they are constantly asking me for things.

"Mom, there is seriously something wrong with your hearing. I've been calling you for like five minutes," my younger daughter exclaims clearly exacerbated.

"What?" I respond with an innocent, slightly cheeky tone.

The truth is that I hear every single thing that they say, but I simply choose not to respond sometimes. The endless string of "Moms" in my house is exhausting. Sometimes, I just need a minute to read, meditate or simply be alone with my thoughts.

I know the difference between a I-can't-find-my-Nike-shorts-Mom and a I-think-my-arm-is-broken-Mom. One can wait; the other needs immediate attention.

For now, I will continue the ruse.

"Seriously, Mom, you should go to the doctor and get your ears checked," my older daughter says.

"OK, maybe you're right," I reply. "I'll get right on it!" (Or not.)