The Pop Gene

I never really understood what hardwired creatures we are until I had children. Watching the boys be themselves from the time they were born....hell, from the very labor that birthed them (Leo was very stubborn even in utero)....utterly amazing. I knew we'd pass traits on to them....but I never imagined how flagrant some of that would be.

Last night Leo was in abject misery because not only does he have a historical fiction Civil Rights story to write, he then has to write a poem. I shook my head in commiseration because although I can write the shit out of my somewhat innocuous everyday life....ask me to write any kind of fiction or creative writing and I stop dead in my tracks. My poor sweet pea.

When Ernie picked me up from work yesterday he said Owen had decided to clean up the living room (perhaps finally put away some of the chairs from the David and Sergio house concert two weeks ago as I'd been asking him to do for some time). So what did Owen do? He went over to the turntable and put a record on. Ernie left to the strains of Paul Collins and the Beat.

That just cracked me up. I never knew there was a pop gene. Evidently there is though...because Owen has clearly inherited it from his father.

Later that evening I walked into the kitchen only to hear Owen singing a Cheap Trick song to himself.

My sweet peas.