This is my entry to the 5 minute Freewrite Daily Challenge hosted by 
Prompt: music
- Set your timer for 5 minutes
- Start writing
- Use the hashtag #freewrite and #freewritepoetry if it turns out to be poetry
- Publish your piece (include a link to this post if you wish)
I love music but it took me a while to discover that music does not love me. I grew up in a traditional Pentecostal church. We sang a lot! Enthusiasm was encouraged and I belted out every song I knew. When I started school, I thought singing in the choir was just right for me. After all, I was used to people in church looking around to discover who the little boy was who sang with such enthusiasm at the top of his voice. They always smiled and would later compliment me on my enthusiasm. Never about the quality of my voice but that detail escaped me.
Big was my surprise when halfway through my first choir practice the teacher found a rugby ball in a cupboard and offered it to me. She kindly thought I would enjoy playing with the ball more than singing in the choir...
It happened again the next year and the year after that. And when I was nine years old they selected me for the A team. Not as a singer but as a rugby player. My singing talent made me a rugby player.
My time is nearly up but I need to just tell this. When my daughter was three years old I had the car radio on with her in the back seat. I sang along with the music playing on the radio with a lot of my old enthusiasm. It was just my daughter and me in the car. She turned to me and said, 'Stop it Dadda! I'm eating!' We never allowed her to eat in the car, so I knew she was not eating. For the first time in my life, I was grateful for the diplomacy of my first grade teacher at choir practice...
