It was a quite night on Sunday. I wasn't feeling great and Zoe was getting over some fever thing, so we decided to lay low. You can only lay low for so long with a 2-year old before they start to go a little stir crazy. Because I wasn't feeling great, sewing and cooking were out.
Fortunately N came to the rescue and asked Zoe if she wanted to play his trumpet. I don't think I've ever seen her jump up fast than I have at that moment.
He brought out his trumpet and showed her how to hold it. She was a little too excited/nervous to try. He played a few notes and then she decided she could do better.
I was amazed. She can actually play it. She knew exactly what to do. She may look like me, but she's all daddy's girl on the inside. After a few tries of composing her own song, she asked N to get his trumpet too! Apparently she feels this is her trumpet now.
Of course N, who is a great trumpet player, has two. Although one is called something else, but don't ask me what. I played flute from 4th through 7th grade and don't think I could tell you how to read music nor how to play the flute. I blocked most of that out after having to march in a parade, fake play a song and wear a green and white polyester band uniform. It was not a highlight of my junior high life.
N wore a perma-grin. I'm sure he was dreaming of their future duets.
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