Oh GOODY! Lookit, guys! It's Karaoke Night at the Lambson house!



You know what I freaking LOVE about this picture? No, not that my girls have the cutest dang matching pj's, or that one can see the bad-A cable lights Aaron installed, or that one can't help but appreciate the SWEET carbonized bamboo flooring he laid which is utterly dazzling in its bambooiness. No, not even that upon closer inspection one can see my little Mack's televised face reflected in the mirror behind Little Miss Drama Queen there on the couch. It's not even the books! Library books! Full of information! Strewn everywhere! All willy-nilly-like! Nope. None of these.

What I love about this picture is the oblivious look on TD's face as he concentrates on the string magic he's teaching himself, utterly ignoring, nay, blatantly disregarding, the karaoke moment going on around him. Because he is 9 years old and apparently WAY too cool for Karaoke Night. To which I say, good heavens! How is he my child?! Is it possible he is a changeling? Switched at birth? The child of a woman with no dramatic or karaoke-loving tendencies whatsoever?! Because WEIRD!

Then? Then, guys? THEN?! TD was made to realize the impossible-to-ignore hypnotic pull of The Phantom of The Opera. You see, Mack and Alli were just about to the part in the song when the Phantom commands Christine, "Sing my Angel of Music!" and she begins those opera chords which grow higher and higher and HIGHER until she is singing so high and so beautifully that you can barely STAND IT? And glass trembles, but doesn't quite shatter? And just as they hit THAT note, you know, the note which pierces your very SOUL? It was at that point that TD suddenly succumbed to his roots.



This here's what you call "Bringing It On Home." And my faith in genetics? Restored.