I am a songbird - like a grackle

One of Mark's co-workers, who knew me when I was younger, recently told him she seemed to remember Lily having a very good voice and asked if he had ever heard me sing.  I believe Mark was a bit dumbfounded by the sheer foolishness of this comment.  Not only has he heard me sing on a regular basis, but he has likely sustained some serious hearing damage from both the volume and the shrill key that can only be heard from the mouth of a suffering animal.  Instead of putting my child in time-out, I sing to him as punishment.  That does more damage than any rounds of sitting in chairs.  He rolls on the floor, covering his ears, telling me he will never do it again (for those of  you ready to call DCFS, perhaps this is a bit of embellishment).  

I believe there is usually a critical moment in a person's life when they realize they have not been blessed with the gift of song.  I used to dream of wowing people with my rendition of "Somewhere Out There" on karaoke.  I would sing Disney songs and wonder at the similarities between my voice and Ariel's.  But then one fateful evening, during a church fundraiser, I had volunteered to sing as part of a trio in front of the crowd.  I can't believe anyone actually agreed to let me.  The whole song was terrible, with me switching on and off key.  There was a small group of teenagers (which included my two siblings) who stood in the back corner and giggled loudly at what they heard.  We did a sad disservice to Michael W. Smith's "Friends are Friends Forever" song.  My mom insisted it wasn't bad while my truthful siblings assured me it was like torture.  People might have actually donated more money that night because they believed me to have special needs.  

Since that night, I have never sung in public again (for the good of the population as a whole). But if someone needs me to sing in their wedding, and they have enough money, I might consider coming out of retirement.