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September 13, 2006
A Little Less Conversation . . .
. . . . A Little More Action.
Remember my post about how I didn’t like guitar music?
Cara’s blog made me realize I should have taken it one step further: I’ve also never been that big on musicians. I never dated one back in my single days. Hell, I’d get annoyed when a date tried to force me to listen to some song while he rocked out on his air guitar. The last thing I’d ever want was to throw a real guitar into the mix. And I’ve never seen the sex appeal of those skinny-yet-skanky rockers, a la Steven Tyler or Mick Jagger.
So you can imagine my concern at realizing I just may have a budding rock star on my hands. That’s right – my three year old son wants to be a guitarist.
It all started with that damn music class I dragged him to for a year and a half. He became so entranced with Miss Jodi’s guitar, that he could hardly keep his hands off it while she was playing. When I told my mom about this guitar fascination, she immediately went out and began to search for a toddler-sized guitar, finally settling on a little ukulele.
(As a side note, I’m finding it hilarious that my parents who gave me one measly buck a week for my allowance – which I had to earn through a series of chores that included cleaning out the cats’ litter box – have decided to completely abandon all principals with their grandchildren. If Sam even glances in the direction of a toy while accompanied by a grandparent, they buy it for him. And I just shake my head. I don’t know where these people came from, but where were they when I was five and wanted an Easy Bake Oven?)
Sam likes to sit in a chair and pick away at his uke, crooning softly to himself like a pint-sized Elvis. He also likes to enlist George and me for family sing alongs. So far, his repertoire is pretty much limited to a bastardized version of Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star. (My attempts to introduce Sam to disco have largely gone unrewarded, although he will occasionally indulge me by dancing to some Abba).
I have to admit, it’s pretty cute. But I am drawing the line if he starts asking for a drum set.
Posted by Whitney at 6:23 AM | Comments (8)
Comments
Adorable! I wouldn't fret too much about your son becoming a guitarist. He will change his mind with every fascinating thing he sees. He sees a fireman with his big red firetruck and he says, "I want to be a fireman when I get older" or says, "I want to be a police officer when I get older so I can help people." And so it goes. My 6 year old still does that. My only concern is, he always comes back to being a racer of some kind.
And isn't it the truth that our parents are so quick to spoil our children. My son had his first taste of solid food from my parents hands. When I said, he shouldn't eat solids until 6 months, my parents said, we did it when you were little. When they buy him some new toy I have to say, you are spoiling him, your partents tell you how they are allowed to do so as grandparents. I always want to ask them, "so why did you not spoil me with Barbie's and candy when I was a child." Grrr...
Posted by: Jo at September 13, 2006 8:02 AM
I never had an Easy Bake oven, either. sigh. But the good part about having a daughter is that I bought one for "her." hee.
And Princess wants a violin. Seriously. We can't talk her out of it. Imagine the pain THOSE practice sessions are going to cause. Hey - we can look forward to a future LC kids' band!!
Or, not.
Posted by: Alesia Holliday
at September 13, 2006 8:14 AM
Honestly, now that the drum kit is out of the living room, I hardly notice it. That twitch in my eye is comletely unrelated.
The LC Eileen
Posted by: Eileen
at September 13, 2006 12:28 PM
Okay, I'll admit it now. I was a total groupie. In fact, Stinky Boy is the product of the classic band member/cocktail waitress combo. Hey, it was the eighties and I was in my early twenties -so shoot me! Stinky Boy has no interest in learing to play the keyboards, or any other instrument for that matter. Insert Halleluia Chorus here. He wants to be a stand-up comedian instead. Oy.
Quote from Stinky Boy, age 3: "Grandma told me not to tell you she bought me a really big Frappuccino."
Posted by: Janina at September 13, 2006 6:29 PM
Janina, your quote from Stinky Boy about the Frappuccino reminds me of a quote from a friend's open house this weekend.
"I'll open the wine and you get the Legos."
To further put this into perspective, it must be noted that it was the 10 year old boy saying it to the 60-something year old man. Not that it wouldn't be funny either way but that just makes it funnier.
For the record, the 10-year-old was practicing his bartending skills by opening a bottle of wine for his grandmother, lest anyone think we were encouraging underage drinking...
Posted by: Dia
at September 13, 2006 6:54 PM
I've taught Sam to clink glasses with me and say "cheers."
Posted by: Whitney
at September 13, 2006 9:07 PM
I just want to say that my parents made me learn the clarinet because we had an old, musty one in the basement, when I really wanted to play the drums.
Posted by: Julie at September 15, 2006 2:27 PM
Ukulele's are nothing..my husband (band teacher) brought home a recorder one day for our son. Yes, if you want to know pain, give Sam a recorder. I finally "lost track" of where the recorder was, right around the time my father in law returned from a trip to Ireland and brought him a tin whistle. It never ends.
Posted by: summer at September 22, 2006 3:59 PM


