The other day, Ian was playing the piano while I puttered around the house. In the midst of my puttering, I suddenly noticed that Ian's playing had abruptly taken on a distinctly eclectic rhythm scheme (sort of Philip Glass-esque, not really Ian's usual style). I looked towards the piano, where I beheld Maggie, practically diving out of Ian's arms in her eagerness to pound out musical mayhem.
Based on this performance, Ian has concluded that Maggie shares his musical enthusiasms. He might be right. Hopefully, she didn't also inherit my complete and very tragic inability to create music of any kind, or she will be a sad and conflicted soul.