Others may ponder but for us the nature/nuture argument was settled when Henry's first second and third words were car. Or more accurately, caahr? with a drawn out middle and an upward inflection at the end. The kid is consumed - practically feverish - with buttons, keys and anything mechanical. And let's just say it is not genetic. So really I should not have been surprised to be interrupted at my part-time job in the laundry room by the simultaneous blast of an AM radio springing to life and the roar of a big sister reporting that Henry had pushed some button on my clock radio. It's a strange thing because I bought this clock a few years ago but the radio never worked. Stranger yet, there are just two volume settings: loud and supersonic and it apparently only tunes in to a local Punjabi radio station. I'm sure Henry will have it retooled and working like a charm in no time.
This clock carries a bit of sadness with it though. I bought it at an everything-must-go yard sale, the kind where the front doors are thrown open and there are people in every room going through closets, buying art from the walls and Pyrex from the kitchen cupboards. I always find estate sales unsettling, but this one particularly so because there was an older gent wandering through the house, looking things over and seeming sort of overwhelmed. I thought he might be a neighbour but it turns out he lived there, and I guess with the house for sale for one reason or another his children were liquidating the contents. Anyway, a little sad. I do really this clock. And now I'll always wonder if the man was listening to Bhangra or Leafs' games.
