When T was born, I had nurtured dreams of sending him for piano lessons. Kinda like a younger version of Yanni if u will, minus the maggi mee mope of hair and moustache.. (completely irrelevant note: I do wonder how many bottles of shampoo he goes through each month just to wash those hair follicles...)
Anyway, I digress. From a practical perspective, he will have an extra life skill to fall back on if his day job as a doctor/lawyer/accountant doesn't work out. Personal cultivation-wise, it seemed like a good way to quieten his wilder side down and add a dose of culture. Anyway, it didn't work out in the end because of his baby carrot fingers - short, fat and stumpy. Now, I pen down this description of his fingers with a great deal of affection cos I loved looking at them when T was a baby and to feel those 'baby carrots' curling ard my fingers. It didn't work out cos the stereotype for pianist fingers are long and slender, a complete opposite of the appendages that my firstborn had been endowed with. And so the pianist dreams were shelved...
5 years later and along came K, who was completely different from her big brother: petite (at the time of publication), feisty and *happy dance* blessed with long slender fingers and toes. For lack of a comparable veggie (of which I have a rather limited knowledge of), I liken them to french beans. It's early days yet and I do cherish hopes of sending K for piano lessons for reasons very much different from those for T. But if she is going to sprout a hairstyle like Yanni's, she's footing her own shampoo bill...
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