But with what? Drums? Music in general? Gymnastics? Soccer? Art? It's easy to think that because she likes the sound of a drumstick against a tom drum that she'll be the next John Bonham? Just because she likes furiously scribbling on my sketch pad, should I call Stan Lee and have him open up a position drawing The Silver Surfer? I don't think it'd be a good idea to hold out hope on any of these things. But coming from an artistic family, and having Cheryl's family have such a musical history, I'm constantly looking for some hidding talent that I can nudge ever so slightly, even if it is errantly.
That's not to say she won't decide she likes to do something as she gets older. I'm also not even hazarding the impression that my parents weren't the same way, but I just floundered too much to make any extra curicular activity stick. I often wonder if my parents wanted me to be an artist or a singer or an astronaut or if they had more humble and noble wishes like making sure I was always on time to school and didn't get sick a lot. It's hard having lofty aspirations while keeping your feet planted firmly on the ground. It's also hard to have your feet on the ground while chasing after a 18 month old with your drum stick.
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