Sadistically, I go to my hubby and the conversation sounds something like this.
"I can almost play 'Leaving on a Jet Plane!'"
Pluck...strum...strum...strum...wait. Damn. Hold on... Pluck...strum...damn. Wait.... Pluck...strum...pluck... No, hold on. Wait a second...
So then he's forced to listen to me practicing.
My teacher assures me I'm making progress at a satisfactory rate, and I know he's right, but I'm also one of those kinds of people who wants patience RIGHT NOW. *LOL*
I've always wanted to learn how to play. Took piano and violin when I was a kid, never got more than okay with the piano (can't sight read worth a damn, but I can play the hell out of something once I had it memorized), only so-so with the violin so it didn't sound like I was murdering the cat.
Much.
But I'm actually digging the guitar. And I can, in all honesty, see the progress. Bonus - I have a story idea I'm working on where one of the characters does play, so my CPA says that means this can count as research.
Woot!
(I love my job!)