My father's family all sang. Songs were part of me from birth. My mother had a terrible voice, however, and sang out of tune. I remember holding my hands over my ears, at the age of two, and screaming, "Don't sing Dottie! Don't sing Dottie!" Later we joked about that and it became a family story.
My mother always said she'd come back and haunt me with her singing.
I was 31 when she died and when I sorted her things I found an old cassette tape without a lable. I put it on the player and my mother's voice warbled out in a cracked and horrible out-of-tune version of "The Lord's Prayer."
Gave me a start.
Makes me sad now because we couldn't share the joke. We never did get along, really. We would have if she'd lived a bit longer I think.
66 years since I was two.
Oh! and it was "Rings on my Fingers" and "Pop! Goes the Weasel" that she sang then.
Joy