Tuned Out

I received a set of over-the-ear headphones as a Christmas present. I had asked for them. I wanted to be able to clean the toilet and listen to podcasts without my little in-ear jobs falling into the Ajaxed water. I didn't realise that big puffy headphones are not made with the spectacle-wearer in mind, and the arms of my glasses get squished into my mastoid bones. My head also gets ferociously hot under there, causing me to have to remove at least one of the many (many) layers of clothes that I tend to wear.

But the sound is sublime. Being enveloped by voice, or music, or both. Being intimately connected with the person on the other end of the bluetooth magic. 
And noise cancelling. 
What parent doesn't need this? 
I am in the room with my children and I am the absolute opposite of present. I am away, immersed in Nick's grief, or Jen's sports updates, or Cillian's eclectic New Year's Day mélange of Scottish folk music and Limerick rap. The children obviously require aural attention now and then, but generally all they need is food and the enforcement of safety regulations, so I am not really neglecting them that much. Their lips move but I can't hear what they're saying (and they wouldn't even get the Pink Floyd reference anyway). 

Ajaxing the toilet is so much more fulfilling when you're listening to Eton Rifles.