Growing up, we all knew "that kid"-the one we secretly admired for appearing so confident and unafraid, the kid who seemed so unconcerned with what other people thought.
I learned this past Tuesday night my kid is that kid.
For four years now, I've attended his winter concerts. First, it was three years of middle school band. Now that he's in high school, he switched gears to choir.
Out of maybe 30 choir students, Dennis is one of only five guys.
He's got a beautiful voice, a deep, soothing bass. I've heard that voice bellowing out crazy rock songs from the next room, but I've never heard it like that, under careful direction from an instructor. I even had a friend at the concert say, "His voice was all I could hear!"
Apparently, he's also something of a class clown, a ham.
When it came to the last song of the night, "We Are The Guys," the boys really got to let loose and play it up.
It looked to me like the other four were looking to Dennis to be "that kid," the one whose crazy antics make it OK for everybody else to get crazy, too.
As I watched Dennis, I gained a new appreciation for him in that I genuinely find him talented.
I also now harbor an admiration for his "confident and unafraid" nature, something I've always secretly wished I myself possessed.