When I was 17. I worked for Baskin Robbins and I was dressed for work. I was down stairs talking to my mom for a minute when we heard the front door open.
My sister said, “Mom?”
My Mom said, “We’re down here talking. Don’t interrupt.”
I, on the other hand, was on my feet running for the stairs. Something in my sister’s voice just catapulted me up the stairs. Then she came around the corner, very pale and said she’d just been bitten by a water moccasin.
Long story short, the doc said she had definitely been bitten by a venomous snake but it had recently bitten something else so ‘twas low on fuel. She didn’t even get sick. Cotton mouths supposedly aren’t around this area of Kansas, so my boss didn’t believe me when I told him why I was late!

Another time I sliced my ankle wide open. Oh, God. Blood every where. It was pretty bad.Watching the tendon go back and fourth was pretty cool, though. Anyway, I hobbled into the house calling my Mom.
She said, “We (dad and her) are out here talking. Don’t interrupt.”
I said, ”MOM!!!!”
That finally got her attention.

Rick can’t seem to read my voice either, but I can read his.

My kids seem to be able to read voices.

Why is that do you think?