Whistling, winking and writin’ good.

Today’s prompt: Which of your parents’/grandparents’ behavioral traits did you inherit?

Did you know that I can’t wink? I know it sounds crazy, but I just can’t do it. I can wink with both eyes simultaneously, but I think at that point it’s just called blinking so it’s not all that special. My little sister can’t wink, either. We both somehow missed the winking gene. It is just hysterical* watching us try.

I have very little no discernible musical ability. I love music, and obviously I have superior taste (ha), but I can’t whistle or sing or dance or do anything really that requires sounding pleasant or moving rhythmically. I tried to learn guitar once, but that didn’t really stick. My dad says I’m tone deaf. Sometimes I’ll say to Sean, “You know that one song? The one that goes do-do-do doo-doo wop-wop do-do?” and he looks at me like I have seven heads because the sounds coming out of my mouth are meaningless. I can’t really whistle, either. This is all despite the fact that my dad plays guitar pretty well, as does my older sister. My aunt plays the piano (and god knows what other instruments) and has an amazing singing voice. I have a cousin who went to Berklee College of Music and is out in LA making it big as we speak. I guess I missed that elusive musical gene, too.

I hit the jackpot on the depression gene, though. I also have one of those addictive personalities, the kind that drives me to do everything in excess. I’m really good at getting drunk. I excel at eating far more than any human should. I am also a champion chain smoker.

And I’m pretty skilled at blaming genetics for my own issues! Shirking responsibility is my Number One Talent. Well, that and writin’ good.

*It’s really not that hysterical, so stop asking me to demonstrate.

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