June 10th, 2012
I gave Sylvie her going-away gift the other night. I sang to her.
I am an awful singer. Awful doesn’t really to it justice. I am one of those people who couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket. I can’t even clap in time to music or chanting. I think I might really be a tone deaf. When Sweety and I met, 11 years ago – he got in my truck and remarked that the speaker to my radio was broken. I hadn’t realized it. I thought music had just gotten quieter so I’d been turning it up louder.
Anyhoo. Sylvie had been bugging me to sing for awhile after she’d noticed that I never sang along to the radio. (I do. Only when I’m alone in the car and the sound is cranked up loud enough so that I can’t hear myself.) It was dark in the car the other night and a song came on that I happened to know all of the words to so I let it fly.
After she had time to recover from the experience, Sylvie remarked that it “sounded like 27 cats being ran over on the freeway. But thank you, Aunt Anna for doing that for me.”
Hey! Did you guys know that it’s FREE to sign up for a Facebook account? Yeah, I thought you might. Guess who doesn’t or who has some kind of weird issue about taking advantage of said free service? The coaew. I guess she was creeping around on Facebook the other day and came across a profile that was using a photo of the boys and their little brother as its profile photo. The name on the profile was the same as her maiden name and a first name that she didn’t recognize. She sent Sweety a text freaking out over it and wanted to know if we could report it to Facebook. Uh. No. Not my photo. Not my freaking maiden name. Not my issue. She finally decided that maybe it was her estranged father. Why not make a profile and send the person a damned message if you’re concerned? Sheesh.
A sleeping Sweey tidbit…
What’s wrong, Sweety?
I was killed in a video game but it’s ok. 500 points to my next man!