Several nights ago my children begged me to let them watch, “The Sound of Music.” I had to marvel at what a different upbringing my children enjoy when I compare it to my own non-musical childhood. Growing up, we watched that classic tale every year on TV, too, but we were not a musical family at all. No one would mistake us for an Osmond—that’s for sure. But my husband is quite the music man. While he has never performed professionally or been paid for the boisterous sounds he creates, he has brought audiences to their knees begging for more. (I won’t bring up the fact that all his groupies were under the age of 5.) My husband even joked (somewhat seriously) about trying out for the Wiggles when the yellow Wiggle became ill and had to quit the show. I actually think being a Wiggle isn’t a half-bad fallback career for him.

He did come from a singing family and all of my children love to sing. They sing in the shower, in the car, and in public. All things I never did. We never even so much sang a Christmas carol in my home. Not once did we gather around a piano and sing as a family. Not even one bar of “Jingle Bells” rings out in my mental family scrapbooks. There was no caroling in my home. There was no joining in with the neighbors for a fun game of “Name that Tune.” We didn’t like to sing. We didn’t want others around us to break out in song. And we were fine with it. You could probably add dancing to that list of things we didn’t do either. My brother still has a fear of Irish Jig dancers to this day. The sight of Michael Flatley makes him nauseated so naturally I thought it would be funny to send him a copy of Lord of the Dance for Christmas one year. I’m not sure if he’s over the trauma of opening his gift and seeing Ol’ Mr. Flatley’s face grinning back at him. Poor guy. It was supposed to be funny, but in my family we can’t even joke about not liking singing and dancing.

But again, I go back to my adoring daughters who live for song and dance and I wonder, Is it their paternal DNA that makes them so blessed with great pipes, or is it because my husband answers questions with song lyrics and belts out the words to classic rock tunes acapella while doing dishes? Who will ever know? But what I do know for sure is that genetic tests could prove there is nare an ancestor of mine who has a musical bone in his or her body. I’m just glad I married up in this area or else I’d be trapped in a car listening to three girls belt out the words to every Taylor Swift song in an unmentionable key.
Question: What great trait do you think you’ve nurtured or passed on genetically to your child?