"Punk Rock Girl" - The Dead Milkmen

I was 16.

His name was John* [*name changed to protect the mostly innocent].  He drove a lowered truck and had the Bieber haircut way before Bieber was even born.  And my parents prayed I wouldn't keep him around for longer than a weekend month.

[Thankfully, I didn't.]

Teenage romance fling aside, I did learn some valuable lessons during this forbidden love like affair.  I learned I never want to eat at Arby's ever again.  I learned there really is life after Depeche Mode.  And I learned that I was not born to sing.

Not then.

And certainly not now.

My singing can only be matched in crappiness to my dancing.

Which is sad for the free world.

because.  I. love. to. do. both.

I remember being asked to sing in church with my two best friends.  After hearing me sing........ the super sweet choirister said, "Emily, lets move you from the middle to the left side and Karen*, let's move that microphone to the right."

Since this day I have not sung in any choirs.  [Well, not outside the walls of my home.]

But as I sat on Peanut's bed, last night, she said something that almost made me fall off her bed.

"Mom, will you sing me the song you used to sing to me when I was little?"

Me:  The "I love [insert Peanut's real name]" song?
Peanut:  Yes.

I sang.  Yes, a cappella. Which made the 8 pound dog rush in to see who was being killed.

She laid there without a judgement in the world.  face lit up like a Christmas tree at the song that was made for her.

I. felt. like. a. [closet]. rockstar.

Thanks Peanut.


Question:

What's the one talent you wish you had?

Is it just not in your cards?  Or have you never tried to develop it?


Happy Wednesday!
Three more sleeps until Pokey Marathon - and until I "get" to wear these!

Ron. you. Rock.
[really need to get that sports bra / arm warmer thing going . . . . I'll take 44 now.  Put in my order please.] ;]