I am, or rather used to be, quite musical. Over the years I have played piano, cello and flute. The Husband once played the oboe. So I've always liked to think that our kids would be musical too. But, as you know, any thoughts I have usually turn out to be a load of old bollocks.
The Tomboy has expressed an interest in learning an instrument and because the last thing we want in this house is a piano, we've opted to let her have guitar lessons A) because a guitar is quite small and can live week in/week out in the back of the car B) it's not very loud and C) all guitar lessons are done at school.
I've also been thinking that if she grows up to be a singer/songwriter a la Taylor Swift, then I can manage her and be quids in. Hell, I don't even mind a bit of rehab if it means that I can retire happily off my daughter's income.
It's been going well. Or so I thought. This evening, our virtuoso daughter decided to treat me to a concert. She has been desperate to show me her playing skills by performing Happy Birthday and Jingle Bells.
This is how it went, a Symphony of five parts:
1. OVERTURE: The Tomboy spends 15 minutes finding the perfect place to sit. (Adagissimo: very, very slow)
2. FIRST MOVEMENT: She refuses to let me tune her (out of tune) guitar. (Bellicoso: aggressive, warlike)
3. SECOND MOVEMENT: There is a scuffle and slight bickering until she is happy with where I am holding up the music. (Affannato: anguished)
4. THIRD MOVEMENT: She plays at a tempo of one (wrong) note every 2.5 minutes. (Gemendo: groaningly)
5. FINALE: I start rocking in the corner and banging the wall. (Col pugno: with the fist)
Thank Mozart there is no ENCORE.
The Husband, is the meantime, is walking around very Vittorioso (victorious) because he's not been invited to the recital. He is con abbandono (free, relaxed).
Beethoven had obviously just heard his kid play the recorder when he said "Music should strike fire from the heart of man and bring tears from the eyes of woman".
Simon Cowell can stick his future record deal where the sun don't shine, for all I care. Because if music be the food of love, I'm happy to starve.