(I have a very good memory, I’ve been told… on that account, this is a true story)
When I was around three or four years old, we lived in a big house out by the countryside.
One summers day I was watching TV, an opera playing. I don’t even know if it was in Swedish or what. I didn’t understand a word, so I tried REALLY hard to listen, because I wanted to know why the fat man was so sad.
Anyways, my father comes in to the living room and starts: “Hey, Simon-“
“SCHH!!! I’m trying to hear what they’re singing!” I said, very irritated.
And he responded with: “Good! That is great practice!” And then he walked away.
And I swear.
To this day, I STILL wonder what he was going to say to me.