Uh, I CAN Read You Know

On a recent Skype call I suffered a couple of technical difficulties.

The first being that while I could see video, I couldn't hear any sound.

The second being that the technicality was being blamed on my supposed old age.

I was trying to Skype with my granddaughter Kendra, as I often do.  She sits in her high chair while I try to amuse her with peek-a-boo and finger puppets--really important grandma stuff.  The problem was that while she could hear me, I couldn't hear anything on my end.  Admittedly, this was no major disaster since she's not even one yet and can't speak.  But my daughter Cheyenne likes to walk in and out of the room and join the conversation at times and she was certain the problem must be something idiotic on my end.  Determined to fix my little sound snafu, she began writing notes and then held them up to her computer's camera so I could read them.
Notes like:

• Mom check your volume setting
• Are you sure you checked your volume setting?
• Do you even know where your volume button is?

And even though I couldn't hear her, she could hear me so I responded out loud with answers like:

• Yes, I've checked it.
• Yes, I'm totally sure I checked it.
• Of course I know where the stupid volume button is.
• Chey, do you realize your texting me the hard way?

Cheyenne finally got exasperated and I heard the phone ring downstairs.  Soon Mitchell, my resident computer whiz, was tromping up the stairs--Chey had called him on his cell phone.  With his phone to his ear, talking to his sister, he came to my computer and peered at the screen.

That was when Cheyenne held up this scribbled bit:

In case it's too blurry, her note says:

"Hi Mitch Mom's getting Old"

Uh, hello, I'm right here and I can read!

Mitchell audibly responds (with me sitting right there) by saying "Yeah, I know" then scoots me off my chair, sits in front of my computer and clicks a few buttons and then suddenly all communication is miraculously restored.  

Unfortunately, what was not restored was my dignity as my age was harshly called into question and completely bludgeoned in the inquest.  

But at least now Cheyenne can hear me. 

So I wait for Mitch to head back down stairs and then I smile real wide.  I look at Chey on my computer screen and I move my mouth...

...I just don't make any sounds.
(score one for the old people.)