Monday, December 12, 2005

A Different Kind of Noise in the Bathroom

I'm think my kids are embarrassed by me.

Why do I say these things? Well, the other night one of my boys wanted to have a sleepover, but instead of just asking if his buddy could spend the night, he chose to ask me this way instead:

"Dad, you don't have to sing in choir in the morning do you?"
"No," I said. "I don't sing until next Sunday."
"Good," he answered, "then can my friend sleep over tonight?"

Huh? What's the connection?

Well, I'm pretty sure it's the mooing.

Ya. On mornings when I have to sing early in the choir, I moo. In the shower. Not like one of those long low cow moos of course, but instead more of your average vocal warm-up moo, as in "moo-moo-moo-moo-MOO-MOO-MOO-moo-moo, mee-mee-mee-mee-MEE-MEE-MEE-mee-mee" etc. You get the picture. No big deal - right?

Well apparently it's enough of a problem that my kids don't EVER want their friends to hear it. Don't want their friends to find out that their dad moos in the morning. How sad is that?

Here I am volunteering my time and talent with my church, and taking that extra step to make sure I sound my very best by taking the time to warm up properly before I sing. And what do I get? Embarrassed kids.

And my wife is in on it too.

Sunday morning, 6 am: "If you're going to warm up in the shower make sure you shut the bedroom door on the way out. Oh yeah, AND the bathroom door too!"

Of course she's not embarrassed by me because she loves me (remember the "for better or for worse" thing?) She just claims that it simply "hurts my ears and is an awful way to have to wake up." Much better.

So I moo. But you know what? I do it for them. That's right. If they think they're embarrassed by my mooing at home or in pain by the howling emanating from the bathroom now? Imagine how humiliated they would be in front of 1000 fellow parishioners when their dear old dad and husband opened his mouth to lead the congregation - without having had the chance to warm up first. Ah ha! Suddenly the old moo-ster ain't sounding so bad now is he?

 So there you have it. One more thing you probably wished you didn't know about me. But I thought it was important to bring it up. Because if you're ever at our house on a Sunday choir morning, don't call the police, don't call the FFA, and for God's sake DON'T call PETA - because there ain't no farm animals being tortured here.

It's just me trying to do my family a favor.

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