I love my godchildren. My weekends are brighter because I know I get to terrorize them with impugnity. I take great pride in watching them grow under my careful guidance.
So, several of them had their piano recital this weekend. Tracy played a simplified Ode to Joy, Raymond pounded out Hail to the Mountain King, and talented Cindy awed us with Fur Elise. Before any one of the budding pianists play, their teacher announces a list of their recent accomplishments.
I think I may not be encouraging my godchildren enough because the accomplishments of the other students were quite impressive:
“Ellen Gonzalez… she’s nine-years old and is in her second year in high school. She is on the honor roll, was Student of the Month fifteen times in a row, and is currently running for California Governor.”
“Richard Fong… he is twelve years old. He has a 4.0 grade point average, is this year’s recipient of the Nobel Peace Prize for rescuing baby seals, and plans to save the world.”
Then, there’s my beloved goddaughter. “Tracy: she is seven-years old. Her favorite hobbies are… playing video games, watching Cartoon Network, and taking pictures of her bunny.”
She is only seven. I mean, give her a couple more years and I’m sure she’ll do something amazing, too.