Two things I do well: speak Russian and sing.

Two things my kids cannot bear to hear me do: you guessed it.

Seriously. They howl in pain and what I can only describe as mortification when I burst into song or attempt to address them in the language they speak with their grandmother. Even when no one is around to witness their shame.

Lest you doubt my self-awareness, I have external validation for that “do well” part. I have a rating of “advanced professional fluency” in Russian (speaking and reading) from the federal agency that employs me.

As for the singing, you can ask the public at Second Chance Saloon. That's where I go on Thursday nights for my karaoke fix.

(That's where I wrote this very column for your Monday enjoyment, as a matter of fact. It's easier to concentrate in a noisy bar than it is in a townhouse with three kids and three adults after a full day at the office and what seems like a half day of commuting.)

I sing in the car to blow off steam. Sometimes I sing to keep myself awake in particularly slow traffic.

I appreciate the emotional release and the public safety benefit I get from singing in the car. Singing for an audience is far more satisfying, though.

Singing for a willing audience, that is. My husband purports to love my voice, but he does not love loud sounds of any kind during my natural prime singing (shower) times, 5 AM or 11 PM.

My colleagues have asked me to sing at memorial services and awards ceremonies over the years. Still, I'm pretty sure they wish my musical outbursts throughout the workday came with a mute feature.

Happily, I can find karaoke most nights of the week in Columbia or Ellicott City. Other sing-it-yourself hotspots in the county are the Phoenix Emporium (Thursday and Sunday), River Hill Sports Grille (Saturday), Sonomas (Sunday), and The Trolley Stop (Friday). There's always Centennial Que and Karaoke Club, which has private rooms for small parties or bashful singers.

I don't make it to karaoke night every week. Most Thursdays I'm too tired, or there's something I need to take care of at home.

This week I needed to take care of the Helen Reddy song that was lodged in my head (“You and Me Against The World”).

I would love to sing it to my nine-year-old daughter – who loves to sing herself – but that would send her screaming from the room.

Both of my sons have good singing voices, but they don't use them. The 11-year-old has no apparent desire to sing, while his older brother only wants to scream.

Specifically, the 14-year-old wants to be a metal vocalist who specializes in growls and screams.

He likes to practice covers of his favorite songs in his room. Once or twice he's recorded himself shrieking along with instrumental tracks he's found
online.

I'm not crazy about the style he's chosen, but he seems to be producing the desired result.

Who knows? Maybe by the time my oldest is 21, Dean Schroyer (my favorite karaoke DJ) will have added some Screamo tracks to his karaoke catalog.