C was singing a John Denver song that I didn't recognize, but I should have. It was "Country Roads." Why should I have recognized it, you ask? Well, that is a funny story.
When I was in third grade we were allowed to branch out in our musical abilities in my elementary school. Not satisfied with the triangles and rhythm blocks anymore, we were advancing. After putting in our time in first and second grade, we could now do choir, recorders, or both. I did both, but the choir doesn't really factor into this story so much. Now when I say "recorder," no actual recording was going on. It looked like this (except mine was black and white) and my mom always called it a "flutophone" which I guess what they were called in 1961. I was in the recorder choir. John Denver was a popular artist in this crowd - we played both "Country Roads" and "Annie's Song." There was a concert at the end of the year, where 125 nine-year-olds played John Denver songs on recorders for half an hour. This is the real crux of the story - my parents actually came to the concert. Can you even imagine anything more hellish? True evidence of how much they loved me, I think.
Years later my little sister found the recorder and played it non-stop for what seemed like months until it mysteriously disappeared. Love has limits, people, and more than one child with recorder-playing skills might be that limit.