Whistling

In my previous post I mentioned I love music. I would like to add that I really like almost any kind. I was raised on a mixture of classical (from my dad and mom), sixties and seventies (from my older brother), and a bit of country thrown in (from my friends). I admit that some of the rap and hip hop music I could do without. But there is that certain beat...

Here's a picture of my daughter's boyfriend of three years. His name is Slay. He is awesome. So awesome, in fact, that I am letting him take over half of my garage to turn into a shop. He's fixing up his 1947 Dodge pickup truck, and also just finished putting together an old Yamaha motorcycle. Slay is clean, keeps his workspace organized (more organized than I am in general) and loves my daughter, my dogs, and my cats.

This past weekend my brother was at my house. We had a great visit. On Monday, we were invited to lunch, which I accepted at the last moment, which meant I had to take my shower fast. I told Marty to go ahead without me and I would be there as soon as possible. I took a very fast shower, dressed, and headed out of my bedroom, whistling some happy tune.

When suddenly... I realized as I rounded the corner to the kitchen, I was not alone. At first I thought it was my brother, and wondered why he hadn't left already. Then I realized it was Slay. He was sitting at my counter, eating his lunch before he continued working on his truck.

First I was a little embarrassed whistling my way down the hall. Then I thought – what the heck? So I made some comment about my penchant for music, and guess what? Slay wasn't laughing at me. It was really no big deal. His girlfriend's mother was a little wacky and definitely happy, so... so what?

Yes, I thought to myself as I continued this conversation in my head. Whistling? Not the worst thing anyone could catch me doing.

We proceeded to talk about his current progress, and how he and my daughter were getting packed for their trip to Hawaii. Our conversations are comfortable. I like Slay, and I am really happy he is with my daughter.

I'll continue to sing. To whistle. To hum. I'll try to tone it down when I'm out in public, but I can't offer any guarantees. What can I say, my life is good, and I'm happy!