There's something to be said for seeing the world through rose colored glasses and making lemonade out of lemons (which, incidentally, you also need a LOT of sugar for). It's important to be grateful for what you have, so I was thinking about something and found a silver lining.
As it happens, I come from a singing family. My parents had four children in the following order: soprano, alto, tenor, bass. Although we were all in choir, we never formed any sort of a singing group. We were not The Von Giraffe Family Singers.
The Rivster sounds better than I do. Let's pretend that it's only because she's had more training. No, who am I kidding. She was just born with talent. Also, she's had more training. Jock's a better singer than I am also. So is Ace. It's okay. We can't all be the best. Or second best. Or third best. I just get less joy out of it then they do and I never pursued it.
I don't generally sing in the shower though, where some people get their best singing done. The only place I sing with regularity is at services. Everyone is singing together so there is nothing embarrassing about it. And once in awhile, maybe three times a year, the person in front of me or next to me will turn to me after services and say, "You have a lovely voice." That is fantastic. I'm forced to kind of believe it.
This has never happened to me when I am sitting with the Rivster. Not once. What does happen at least 50% of the time is that someone will turn to her and tell her that she has a beautiful voice. This is true and I don't begrudge her that. I will, however, acknowledge the good side of this coin. I might not get to sit with my sister at services, being as how we live three thousand miles away from each other (and to be fair, now that she's a Rabbi, we wouldn't be sitting next to each other anyway), but I do have the sometimes pleasure of hitting the compliment lottery.