The circle of life

Marian is a lot like me. Aside from several physical resemblances, she’s got my wonderful sense of humor, my unmatched brilliance, my athletic prowess, my grace, my wit and of course…my modesty. As you can clearly see, we are super awesome in so many ways – except one. I can’t sing. I have the kind of voice that makes people leave a room. And they’re usually crying. And bleeding from their ears. So, my voice is a bit of an instrument of terror and yet I love to sing. Now my darling six year old has discovered her love for song. The difference between us is that she thinks she sings really well. I used to think that too, until my mother straight up told me that I had my father’s voice. I knew how bad that was. Rules were created in the house to save the family from my ear-shattering singing. One such rule was “No singing at the dinner table”. I didn’t know until I was an adult that it was created because of me. So now, when Marian asks me to listen to her sing I have to do it with a straight face. I’ve decided to wait until she’s eight or nine to let her know that she has her father’s voice. Er, I mean, her mother’s voice.

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