Ears

I have recently discovered yet another indignity of ageing. It seems that when I lift my head from my pillow in the morning, my ears – those once resilient flaps of cartilage – now take their sweet time unfolding from whatever grotesque shape the pillow has imposed upon them overnight. There I am, stumbling towards the mirror, only to be greeted by a pair of ears that appear to have given up on being ears and are instead auditioning for the role of Shrek's understudy.

This was never an issue a few weeks ago - my ears would spring back into position with the same enthusiasm as a Labrador spotting an unattended sandwich. Now, they seem to sit there, sulking, as if they are waiting for some sort of written permission to return to their natural state. I prod at them, flick them, even try the old “rub vigorously with the palm” technique, but they just ooze back into place at their own leisurely pace, as if to say, “What’s the rush? We’ve got all day.”

It is, I suspect, one of those delightful side effects of ageing that no one warns you about. Skin loses elasticity, cartilage gets lazy, and before you know it, you’re wandering around the house in the morning looking like you were halfway through being vacuum-packed in your sleep. No one tells you that ears, which have spent decades minding their own business, will suddenly decide they no longer have the structural integrity to bounce back from a bit of compression.

This is just another chapter in the slow betrayal of the body. First, the metabolism sneaks off into the night without so much as a goodbye. Then, the knees decide that stairs are an unreasonable demand. Now, it’s the ears refusing to participate in the very concept of instant rebound. At this rate, I fully expect my nose to start migrating sideways out of sheer spite.

I am sure some medical bore would tell me this is all due to a reduction in collagen, hydration levels, or some other grim biological process that ultimately ends in a pine box. I prefer to think of it as my ears going on strike. Decades of loyal service, and now they want shorter hours, more rest, and apparently, a slow and thoughtful return to their original shape. I almost respect the audacity.