To Yell Or Not To Yell...

One of my favorite authors recently wrote a blog post about yelling at his dogs. 

And I could totally relate. 

Yelling is good exercise for the lungs. 

You need a big intake of oxygen to make your voice be heard. 

All of that oxygen satiates the brain with vital nutrients to help you...yell some more. 

If you don't yell (come on, you really don't?) you are only hurting yourself. 

I come from a family of yellers. 

Well, I'm actually 1/2 yell, 1/2 shh. 

My mom is from a family of 7. 

They are the yellers. 

My dad is an only child. 

He's the quiet. 

But I must tell you, when I say we are yellers, it's not to be construed as a vicious method of communicating within the family. 

We are better viewed as loud talkers. 

Very loud talkers. 

In large families, it's the way to go. 

The way to be heard over the masses. 

You're never going to get the mashed potatoes passed to you at Christmas dinner if you are as meek as a mouse. 

My dad still, after all of these loud years, doesn't get it. 

My mom and I will be in a loud, boisterous  conversation about the pros and cons of phyllo dough versus regular pie dough and he'll say "why are you two yelling at each other?!"

"Umm, who's yelling?  We're having a discussion!"

And we go right back to it. 

Loudly. 
I married a quiet guy. 

He's from a family of 5, but the mom of that group is a shh-shher and so they are one of those odd quiet large groups. 

But, I yell. 

At him. 

My kids. 

The dogs. 

The goats. 

My friends. 

Strangers.

Plants. 

My dishwasher. 

Dust. 

In my 9 3/4 years of raising two girls I've realized that they DON'T think I'm serious about something, really serious, unless I'm yelling. 

Then I get action from them. 

And I've noticed that my longtime friends from my early years are loud, too. 

We are that guffawing table at the restaurant that is oblivious to others around us. 

We are having a good time and enjoying each other's loudness. 

And in all seriousness, I'm the quietest one in the group. 

Scary.