Monday nights I have band practice and don’t usually get home till about 10:30. By the time I get in the door, relax, catch something on hulu, and spend time with the hubster it’s after midnight. And I don’t even want to think about what time the kids will be up and at ’em the next morning! (We’re usually talking pre-dawn. Ugh!)
As usual, Lennon was my first bright-eyed, bushy-tailed kiddo this morning. And after about 20 rounds of “Is the sun up yet?” he wandered downstairs. Good, now I can catch a little more sleep! That is, until I hear all this bumping and clanging metal. Of course, I should really be getting out of bed to check this out, but let’s face it. I’m tired. So I keep a cautious ear on the situation and figure, As long as they’re laughing and not crying, I’m fine. Well, five minutes later both boys are awake, in my room, climbing in the bed and Lennon has this:
For some reason, my budding musician has decided that 6:30 is an appropriate time to begin his trumpet pedagogy. And he can actually produce a couple notes. Loud notes. Very loud notes! I don’t know about you, but this is NOT what Mommy wanted to wake up to this morning! What do you think?