How I found out that I'm not Eric Clapton

My son Asparagus is the drummer of a Japanese rock band. A few months ago, their lead guitar quit or was fired or something. One of Asparagus's running jokes over the years is to tell me: Mom, why don't you learn to play the piano/saxophone/cello, etc. so that the three of us (him, me and the other son B-boy) can form a rock band. So naturally, this time he asked me to learn to play the guitar in order to replace the guy who left. Of course, with my self-deluded mind and flaming ego, I didn't resist too strenuously to the temptation -- who wouldn't want to be a rock star? I can already see myself basking in the adoration of my fans, as I pluck the strings with my teeth before smashing the guitar on the amplifier and setting both on fire.

Asparagus was very encouraging: I only have to learn one song, or at the most two, in case we get encored, and since I don't read music, he will hum the song to me. Sounds easy enough. The cherry on the sundae was when he informed me that I have 9 months to prepare myself, cause that's when the band has a gig. The very next day, I went out and bought: Rock Guitar for Dummies.

It's been two months and I can't even strum a frigging single bar. The word «suck» has crossed my mind... more than once.

Another dream bites the dust.