[Oh. Oh no. Oh, damn it, it's happened again. He's fallen into that Trench situation of edging close to sensitive personal information and he hadn't even realized it was happening until it happened. He's hyper-aware of it at this point! How does it keep happening and taking him by surprise?
The one upside is he does like talking about his son.]
Just Tater. There were plans for more but I'm a universe away now, so.
[It's not as though more kids were in the cards even if he had stayed, but he's not going to just come out to a snippy stranger about his messy divorce. They are not at that social link level yet.]
things you don't expect to find on the Iditarod trail: full-size hogs?
He was a great kid at every age. Quiet, polite. Real smart. I don't know how but he always knew when it was going to rain. He'd point out whenever the weather report was wrong and he was always right.
[ (the only thing worse than being ambushed by a pun is not noticing the ambush, smdh) ]
While I suppose that there ... are only incredibly limited means ... to find out the truth of the matter, it seems likely enough to me that this is a trait all your children might have shared, as with all your musically-inclined siblings.
[ worst part: can't even hate on a guy gushing about his kids, how could he ]
[It's funny, because he didn't notice the setup for the pun because he unironically called his son Tater Tot. Oops.]
It's possible. It's sure not something I can do, but we all have our particular specialties. I wouldn't know the first thing about botany but my sister managed to breed up purple strawberries. Maybe he'd have been a meteorologist.
[The thing about the McGucket family is that Fiddleford is not an outlier. He didn't leave the farm and go to college to get away from a family where he didn't belong, he left the farm and went to college because he wanted to see the world outside Tennessee.]
You haven't said, as yet, how musically-inclined your parents are, or — for that matter — what name is borne by the McGucket of the partnership, or how many siblings there are, that we might determine what (if anything) is the mystically-influenced-by-naming-convention gift of their generation, you know.
(You were not explicitly clear as to whether or not you were including your parents in the "most of us can play most instruments well enough for bad jazz music" answer, either. Heartbreaking!)
You're overthinking this. There's nothing mystical about it. It's just we were coming up poor in the mountains so playing music together was one of the best options for entertainment once everyone's work was done. As far as I know my folks still don't have a television.
But if it's going to keep you up at night, yes, my parents could also play.
More wistful than overthinking, I suspect. No matter how many times I've tried, I've never really managed to develop a large family, much less one that was universally musical.
Which isn't to say I haven't spent plenty of evenings with everyone gathered up around a fire singing — instruments optional and sometimes improvised — to wind down from a long day's work, with television not at all an option.
It was a lot better than sitting in the firelit dark listening to basically everyone else having sex again, after all.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
the only place I see this happen IRL is sled dogs
[ (totally judging you, though; it's just probably in the opposite direction compared to the person providing the editorial asides) ]And which vegetables did you do?
[ how many McGuckets does it take to fill a bucket, while his thoughts are at it... ]
sled dog owners, tennessee hog farmers, same thing basically
The one upside is he does like talking about his son.]
Just Tater. There were plans for more but I'm a universe away now, so.
[It's not as though more kids were in the cards even if he had stayed, but he's not going to just come out to a snippy stranger about his messy divorce. They are not at that social link level yet.]
things you don't expect to find on the Iditarod trail: full-size hogs?
Must have been extra adorable when he was a toddler.
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While I suppose that there ... are only incredibly limited means ... to find out the truth of the matter, it seems likely enough to me that this is a trait all your children might have shared, as with all your musically-inclined siblings.
[ worst part: can't even hate on a guy gushing about his kids, how could he ]
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It's possible. It's sure not something I can do, but we all have our particular specialties. I wouldn't know the first thing about botany but my sister managed to breed up purple strawberries. Maybe he'd have been a meteorologist.
[The thing about the McGucket family is that Fiddleford is not an outlier. He didn't leave the farm and go to college to get away from a family where he didn't belong, he left the farm and went to college because he wanted to see the world outside Tennessee.]
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(You were not explicitly clear as to whether or not you were including your parents in the "most of us can play most instruments well enough for bad jazz music" answer, either. Heartbreaking!)
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But if it's going to keep you up at night, yes, my parents could also play.
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Which isn't to say I haven't spent plenty of evenings with everyone gathered up around a fire singing — instruments optional and sometimes improvised — to wind down from a long day's work, with television not at all an option.
It was a lot better than sitting in the firelit dark listening to basically everyone else having sex again, after all.no subject
[Or lack thereof. Jesus Christ.]