I have a confession. I'm hesitant to tell you. Ordinarily my life is an open book. I don't hold much back. But this secret is, well, a secret. I house it in a corner of my soul that I would rather not hold up to the light. But to explain my story I'll have to expose my soul. Please don't think less of me. *deep breath* Here I go!
I can't whistle.
Shocking isn't it!
As a child I liked to think that I had musical abilities. I liked to sing. I could pick a tune or two out on the piano. And thanks to years and years and years of singing scales, always starting with middle C, I can sing a perfect middle C (at least I used to be able to. I haven't tested this talent in years). But try as I might I could not figure out how to whistle. This lack of musical ability wounded my soul as a child. I had to face the cold reality that I could not be a musical prodigy if I could not master something as simple as whistling. A dream or two may have died with that realization.
At different points in my life different people have attempted to teach me how to whistle, to no avail. I simply can not figure it out. I'm either holding my mouth wrong, or breathing wrong, or both. I can not do it. It frustrates me so.
Knitting looks all complicated to those who don't know how to knit. Cooking seems like it's own special sort of magic to those who don't understand how an omelet gets from egg shell to omelet form. Talents always seem mysterious to those who don't possess them, and whistling is a mystery to me. A frustrating infuriating mystery. Why the hell can't I whistle?
I am delighted that three of my children can whistle (so far, at almost 10 months, Sweet Pea is to small, but who knows, she may prove to be the musical prodigy I was not). And I'm not talking blowing one note from their mouths, they can WHISTLE. These stinking kids can whistle a recognisable tune. Every time The Greatest plays that song "Young Folk" the kids walk around for three days whistling the intro. DRIVES.ME.CRAZY. (the song, not the kids) Meaty teases me that the reason I can't whistle is because he stole my whistle. It's a theory, sounds as good as any. I'm so pleased in this mystical talent that has always eluded me I try very hard not to discourage their whistling.
But Bird has been walking around for day now whistling the Enzyte jingle. You know, the "natural male enhancer." Something about that is just so wrong.