“I’m a ghoul!” I would say to my brother, FRUSTRATED.
“A GIRL” He would correct. My brother was definitely smarter than I was. He was taller. He was faster. We would play chess and after the third time he beat me I would ususally get so flustered that I’d throw a sissy fit! Best way I can think to describe it.
“That’s what I said. A ghoul.” It wasn’t until speech therapy with Mrs. Grout that I began to learn to pronounce that pesky ‘R.’
I was afraid of speaking. I sounded silly. I knew it. “Stop making noise just to hear yourself talk!” My dad would say on car rides. My parents bought us a tape recorder for Christmas one year, and after hearing myself sing I stopped…when I said “R” in my head it sounded fine but when I heard myself saying it …I sounded…well … as I understood it I had a seizure when I was two, stopped breathing, after a minute or so dad said they heard a soft shooosh leave my lips…They thought I was gone…but then my grandma shook me…and when I started to speak thereafter those r’s came out “wetodded” as I would have said…Grandma thought she had broken my mouthpiece a ‘lil, I fear…
DO NOT FEAR. I wish I could have told her. But she was such a little ball of nerves. She played the Tuba in the Salvation Army Band! Margaret Ida Anderson Nielsen.