Oh for the love of pete.

I'm turning into my mother. Once in high school I had the lead in a one act play. I got to wear a dress that was covered in blue sequins. In retrospect the character I was playing might have been called a cougar. Luring young men and all that. Anyhow, after the play when I saw my mom she was crying those "tears of pride". I found this odd for two reasons. 1. The play kind of sucked. And 2. It was my only lead role ever for a reason.

boy-and-trumpet

Tonight my big dude had his very first band concert.

tooting-his-own-horn

He loves his trumpet so.

BigJ-1st-Concert

Yes, that's my baby. Right there in the front row. You see what he's doing there? He's sitting at attention - waiting for the band director to start. Notice most of the other kids are chit-chatting, and I see some wild flailing in the back rows going on. But not my baby. He's ready. He is a musician. (We should stop here to note that while I played 1st chair clarinet all through senior high, I was not a musician. I would have been flailing about or at least talking to anyone I could make eye contact with!).

So without further adieu, I give you Jolly Old St. Nicholas - by the beginner band. I'm telling you the title in case you can't recognize the tune. And yes, I cried the tears of pride.