It's in the genes...

Part I: When I was about 19, I was good friends with my now-husband, Michael, and his older sister, Rebecca. One evening, after institute, a large group of us went over to their house to watch a movie. Several of their younger siblings were also scattered throughout the living room for this cinematic event. At one point during the movie, we heard a loud, clear whistle come from down the hall. All of a sudden, with no explanation, all of the Shurtleff children in the room, both young and old, jumped up and ran down the hall to their parents' room.

The rest of us sat in stunned confusion as to what phenomenon had just occurred. It was later explained, and I later became familiar with the custom, that when Dad Shurtleff whistled, the kids all came. This call was effective in retrieving children for dinner, at the park if they were far away, or any of various other situations - Dad whistled, kids came.

Part II: Michael's younger brother, Josh, has been staying with us for the summer. A couple of days ago, Michael wanted Josh to come upstairs from the basement. He turned to me and smiled, "Let's see if this works." And he proceeded to whistle, as close to his dad's whistle as he could. Of course, Josh, being the little brother he is, purposely ignored Michael's call. However, not but a few seconds later, our little Michael came bounding down the hall and said, "Daddy, do you need something?"

So I guess it's just in the genes...