So, can you whistle?
It’s easy, remember? All you do is just pucker up your lips and blow*.
Except I can’t. Whistle, that is.
Oh, I make this kind of pathetic, hideous, high squeaking noise. Nothing tuneful. No control. Just wispy squealing.
The boys think it’s hilarious.
Mr6 can whistle. Boy, can he whistle. Theme tunes from Harry Potter, Star Wars, Young Justice League. Lovely, tuneful LOUD whistling reverberating around the house.
It drives me crazy. Particularly when, as now, I’m trying to concentrate and he’s feeling particularly joyful because he’s home from school, in his dressing gown, having a sick day. His joie de vivre cannot be contained and spills over in outbursts of uncontrolled whistling.
Some might say I’m just jealous.
Those people have not lived with an enthusiastic whistler.
So, can you whistle? Or do you too live with an enthusiastic whistler?
*Actual quote: “You know how to whistle, don’t you, Steve? You just put your lips together and… blow” – Lauren Bacall, To Have and Have Not