The other night the girls were in the bathtub upstairs and Bobby and I were watching American Idol downstairs. There was a particularly bad singer, so I turned it up a little to hear better. Macy shouts from the bathtub, "Why is Daddy singing downstairs?" I shouted back that it was American Idol. Pause. Pause. "Ohhhh."
It was priceless. The look on Bobby's face was too.
Macy likes to watch the show with me, but is always turning to me and asking if that person is a bad or good singer. Reminds me of something I heard years ago: ask a kindergartner how many of them can sing, and they will all raise their hand. Ask an adult how many can sing, and very, very few will raise their hand.
I guess Macy can't tell the difference between a good and bad singer. Must be tone deaf like her momma.
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