OKay, here's my clarinet tale. This is the instrument I played in high school. As I was learning, and honking and squeeking away on it, my brother made a recording, then went to his room and played it as listening music. I knew how bad I sounded, but I never forgot how good it felt that he did that for me, and pretended I sounded good! lol. You just touched on a really happy memory for me =) Your kid will get better!
On the other hand, my mom used to fall asleep at our concerts...
I have laryngitis, and this is so funny it made me laugh out loud (more of a horrid little squeak, really).
When my aunt was learning to play violin, she hated it. My grandmother would scream at her to practice, make her cry, and then grandma would go upstairs and unplug her hearing aid (we're talking 1950s here) so she couldn't hear my aunt blubbering and sawing away on that poor instrument.
I've been doing life on one leg since '04, and I have no problem finding the humor in it.
I am also:
* a single mom (to MyFavoriteKid)
* a sweetheart (to TheMostImportantGuy)
* a longtime knitter and newbie spinner
* a practicing buddhist
* a volunteer at convalescent hospitals
* a retired caterer and dedicated foodie
* a professional dance teacher and performer (yes, on just the one leg!)
5 comments:
*snort*
Oh that was a good one! Too funny.
Oh, yeah. That clarinet can really squeal and squeak! ;-)
OKay, here's my clarinet tale. This is the instrument I played in high school. As I was learning, and honking and squeeking away on it, my brother made a recording, then went to his room and played it as listening music. I knew how bad I sounded, but I never forgot how good it felt that he did that for me, and pretended I sounded good! lol. You just touched on a really happy memory for me =) Your kid will get better!
On the other hand, my mom used to fall asleep at our concerts...
I have laryngitis, and this is so funny it made me laugh out loud (more of a horrid little squeak, really).
When my aunt was learning to play violin, she hated it. My grandmother would scream at her to practice, make her cry, and then grandma would go upstairs and unplug her hearing aid (we're talking 1950s here) so she couldn't hear my aunt blubbering and sawing away on that poor instrument.
Post a Comment