Monday
Clare watched the CMA Music Festival on ABC, billed as “Country’s Night
to Rock.” (Why not Wail Twang?) About an hour in, my daughter took out her guitar to
practice. Something sounded off, so Tuesday
she went and had the guitar restrung.
Country music, guitars, Western wear—who
is this child? If I didn’t see with my
own eyes last night her eating five pierogi and watching the Sox, I’d swear she
was no child of mine. Of course, I’d be
wrong.
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