Fresh off the heels of his first song "Daddy Sippy," Miles Scot Jernagan wrote a new hit song on his second birthday.
"I Just Don't Know What to Try" is a short number, played by a five-piece percussion lineup featuring Miles on drum and vocals, Grandma on shaker, Great-Gram on jingle bells, Mommy on tambourine and Daddy on maracas.
After establishing a solid beat, Miles states his slightly existential problem "I just don't know what to trr-yyyy!"
A few more seconds of drumming follows before the mysterious frontman throws his drumsticks across the room and shouts "Hooray!"
Everyone is expected to follow suit.
This song's presence in our home, along with "Daddy Sippy" -- a repeated chorus sung alternately to the tune of "Frere Jacques" or "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" -- led Nicole and I to laugh pretty hard last week when the doctor asked if the boy spoke in three-word sentences.
Three words? Are you serious? I'd like to contain him to three sometimes.
Of course every parent thinks his or her child is the smartest/cutest/most athletic/(fill in whatever trait you value) one around, but I think I'm safe in saying I have a bright kid.
On the other hand, my belief in his musical and writing aptitude is undercut by what appears to be the inability to rhyme at this point.
"This old man, he played two. He played knick-knack on my table."
We're still working on that one.
I'm cautiously optimistic that this apparent aptitude for music means something. It's one of the great regrets of my life that I never took advantage of taking band or choir (maybe both) in high school.
I was too busy doing things like playing football (which I wasn't good at) to pursue something like music -- a pursuit I could continue throughout my life.
And so it stands that I'm the biggest music fan you'll ever find, but I can't play a lick of music. I've owned a guitar for better than a decade and could once sort of play part of Nirvana's "Come As You Are."
But even that ability is about as far gone as Kurt Cobain at this point.
So it comes back to Miles. Am I projecting my hopes and dreams onto him? Absolutely.
On some level, it's the same instinct that pushes parents to become pageant moms and football dads.
We want to relive the opportunities we missed.
It's about keeping our own egos in check, though. I think I can do that.
Regardless of what he chooses, I'll support Miles. But when he takes a special interest in any musical pursuit, Daddy is going to have an extra big smile on his face.
And I think that's OK.