Grandson Ansel’s parents tolerate my doting on him and projecting his career in music.
Shortly after he was born, I noticed I could interrupt his occasional fussing if I turned on bluegrass and danced. He turns toward the TV any time music begins. I also claim I taught him to applaud. When his parents planned to take him to a concert, I kept reminding them to protect his ears – and they did. He clapped right along with the crowd.
Later that week, when lights flickered in his parents’ bedroom, Ansel ran in, arms high, clapping, ready to go on stage.