"Did you hear my directions?" I asked, loading the two camping chairs into the back of our Durango.

"Yeah, I did, but that's not the name of the park," my husband said.

"Don't worry about the name of the park," I said. "I think it's more important you heard how to get there."

It was early Saturday morning. My 11-year-old had a flag football game in Maunalua, now known as Hawai'i Kai. Our Saturday plans were such that we had to drive two separate vehicles.

My kuleana or responsibility was to drive our youngest to the controlled scrimmage. My husband and 15-year-old were to follow in the truck, which was loaded with tables, chairs and tent.

Neither of us was familiar with the location of the field. So I called my son's coach for driving directions.

"It's real easy to find," Coach John said. "Head mauka on Lunalilo Home Road, then take a right on Anapalau Street. You'll run right into the park."

I relayed the driving directions to my husband.

"You sure you know where to go?" I asked, again.

"What? You think I was born yesterday?" he said.

My husband has repeatedly maintained he is hearing-impaired. He claims he has even sought treatment.

"Ah, yeah, honey," he said, chuckling. "The ENT specialist recommended I limit my interaction with you. Maybe even have an operation."

"What is that supposed to mean?" I glared at him.

"Well, the doc said that the first sign of hearing impairment is when high-pitched frequencies are lost."

I remember looking at him perplexed.

"People with this disorder apparently have difficulty hearing the high-pitched tones of women — especially their wives. Maybe that's why I don't always respond to what you're saying!"

Personally, I think it's a case of stink ear!

There is an ancient Hawaiian saying for someone who does not use his ears for the purpose of which they were designed:

Waiakea pepeiao pulu 'aha.

Or, Waiakea of the ears that hold coconut-fiber snares.

In ancient Hawai'i, snares were fashioned out of the mid-rib of a coconut and the fiber of the husk. The snares were used to catch small fish, shrimp or crabs. When not in use, the snare was often placed behind the ears as someone would do with a pencil.

This 'olelo no'eau is applied to a person who does not listen.

The football player and I arrived at the field on time. A half-hour into the game, my cell phone went off. I answered it.

"Mom?" my 15-year-old's voice sounded distorted on the other end. "Where are you?"

"I'm here at the game," I said.

"Well, Dad's at Kaiser. I think we're lost."

Tell Dad that he may want to think seriously of having the operation the ENT specialist recommended.

Reach Ka'ohua Lucas at Family Matters, 'Ohana section, The Advertiser, P.O. Box 3110, Honolulu, HI 96802; or at ohana@honoluluadvertiser.com.