I Could Have Been Great

I used to sing. Well, really, I still do. In the car mostly, or after hours at work, when no one can hear me. I used to sing to the short person too, but lately not so much.

I used to have a really good voice too. I remember getting picked a lot at youth group to teach new songs. My shining moment was in Idaho at a youth camp. I remember setting all the kids abuzz with how good my voice sounded. (I also remember it was a great lesson for what clean air and altitude will do for acoustics and voice.) My dad wanted me to try for a scholarship in voice and attend college with it, but I didn't. Not sure why.

But all that's over now. Now, I must suck because I've gotten the "hand" from my daughter.

We'll be in the car and she'll ask me to sing along with a particular song, so I will, only to have her lift her little hand about three seconds into it and say, "No, no, Mom... don't sing."

Sad, but true.

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It occurred to me last night in one of those blinding flashes of pure genius (haha) that the birthday system is totally screwed up because your first birthday is not really your first birthday-- it's your second birthday. Your first birthday was the day you were born.

Now, if you wanted to say first birthday anniversary, that would make sense. I could go with that one.

So, what that means is that I just celebrated my 36th birthday.

Man, that sucks.