The Un-talent

My grandson came home from his wolf pack meeting tonight. “We're having a talent show next week Grandma.”

“What will you do; draw a picture?” He is actually pretty good; or maybe it’s just that I’m so bad.”

“Nope, I want to sing the doughnut song with you.”

I’m strictly an 'in the shower singer' and I definitely don’t do duets with a shy eight year old.

“I have a meeting that night sweetheart. Darn.”
It was true. I have my writers group and in eight years I have never once missed.

Without missing a beat he listed other things he could do: ride his bike, twist his left foot far to the side or dance with his baby brother. How wonderful to be eight years old and have confidence in so many noteworthy talents.

Then he realized that everyone can ride a bike and unless he could ride up the walls or do flips it was nothing special. His foot didn’t twist quite as far around as the guy on TV and his baby brother will be in bed.

It looks like I will be doing my singing debut in front of the wolf pack and their parents. We will be singing:

As I stepped round the block one day
I stepped into a bakers shop.
I picked three donuts outta the grease,
And handed to the lady a five cent piece.

The lady looked at the nickel and she looked at me
She said this nickels no good to me.
It’s got a hole in the middle and it goes right through.
Says I there’s a hole in your donut too.

It will be fun, won’t it?

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