“So you can sing alto and soprano too?”
Not comfortably, I say.
Yes, I mean. 
What is truer is that I am greedy, insatiable, an only child.
I don’t let the squeak in my range stop me because that part, you know, the one where the sopranos jump in and say, 
we raise our voice, our voices, I want a piece of it.
I can handle the dn duhka dn dn dn duhka dn dn dn’s for only so long before I get bored, Impatient, yearning for an ooo with the altos.
But when the altos have to do the hard work of harmony a little higher than I would have hoped,
I can jump down, settle in with the men, and give you a bass line to ground yourself in.