I Gave Birth to My Husband’s Brain

Several days ago, my 16-year-old daughter and I drove to her piano lesson in Gales Ferry, a town approximately 15 minutes north of our house. When we arrived, the teacher’s home was dark with a closed garage and a shuttered front entry. Usually the home is well lit with an open garage and a front entry that stands ajar, through which the scheduled students quietly enter to await their turn at the piano.

“Do you have lessons today?” I asked.

This inquiry was followed by a look of what could only be called profound thoughtfulness, accompanied by that rapid eye movement indicative of a brain being searched for any shred of information that may help in answering the posed question.

“The teacher may have mentioned something about not having lessons today, but I’m not sure,” she answered sheepishly.

At this point, I requested that my daughter knock on the front door to see if anyone was home, which she did. No answer. I encouraged her to check the garage to see if the teacher’s car was gone. No car. Clearly, no one was home, so we left…sans piano lesson.

What ensued was a conversation about being more responsible to communicate schedule information, with me suggesting she get a Palm Pilot in which to record her events. She explained how that wasn’t necessary, that a small notepad would suffice. As the conversation continued with her explaining how she remembers information (or doesn’t remember it, as the case may be), suddenly it dawned on me that she thinks like her father. Aarrgghh!

Now, because my daughter does well in music, math, and literature (as I do), and has a tremendous memory for facts and figures (as I do), I assumed she had more characteristics of my brain and my way of processing information…apparently not. Apparently, this lack of ability to retain schedule information is a characteristic she inherited from my husband, along with an inability to recall names and faces after only one meeting. Having grown up with a father who worked as a meatcutter and had almost perfect recall of customers’ names, faces, and regular orders, I find her lack of recall disturbing, especially since this same child can tell me the conjugation of almost every Latin verb ever created and the classification of almost every animal known to man. Nope, personally, I think it is a matter of selective amnesia. If remembering and communicating schedule information was important to her, or more interesting, it would be filed away somewhere in that magnificent teenage brain.

So, how do we solve this problem? That is an issue we are still working on. I will let you know what we arrive at in the way of a solution.