Wednesday night, I had quartet rehearsal at my house. The Boy was sitting in the lounge chair in the living room, listening a bit but mostly playing on The Wife's iPad. We were singing songs in Bb and Ab, which relevant to this story.
We were shifting from an Ab to a B song, and I remembered a story TheWife had told me. I said, "The Boy, sing your A string." He thought about it and did. I said, "Now go up to first finger B and sing that." He did. I blew the pitch pipe, and he was dead accurate with the pitch.
Go figure that the kid with hearing damage is the kid who inherits The Wife's perfect pitch.
At this point, we're pretty convinced he has it. Blessing and a curse, child.
He's also reading music quite well. He's working his way through some of the string books we have lying around the house. This child is fearsomely intelligent.
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