Spending time with the youngest allows me to realize all my failures as a parent.
Not only will the child not vote in the presidential election, but he also has no clue who Eric Clapton is.
I cannot begin to express the shame I feel.
He asked me why he should know who Eric Clapton was, he didn't have a cool name like Yo-Yo Ma.
This child is the reason I have so much white hair.
My youngest, when he cares to be, is a very gifted musician. He used to play a mean mandolin until his teacher told him he played better than some people that had been playing 25 years, and then the kid quit playing. Was he a Bill Monroe, Ricky Skaggs, or David Grisman? No, but he was also not even a teenager.
He can also play the cello, hammered dulcimer, guitar, and a mountain dulcimer, but he stopped playing all instruments once he left high school and went to TAMS.
My youngest does not listen to music. Never has, and I don't expect him to start any time soon.
So how do I expect him to know who Eric Clapton is? Because he has lived with me and his brother all his life. I have played Eric Clapton in the car on trips. His brother and I recently had a conversation about Clapton in the presence of the youngest who was not doing anything at the time but listening to us. You would think he would have a vague recollection of having heard the name.
If I learn of any more failures, I am going to need a stepladder. The pile is getting too high.
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