Some of you may remember that last year, Kelly asked for (and received) a flute for Christmas.
She opened it:
And then she didn't see it again for a while.
Skip had a turn... (making sure everything "worked")
And then after all the kids were in bed, Ken had to make sure it worked, too.
I think for the first couple of months that the flute was in the house, Ken and Skip monopolized it apart from the little lessons they would give Kelly on 'how to make a sound with the mouthpiece'.
But now she's taking band at school, and the flute is most definitely hers. Possession being nine-tenths of the law, and all that.
Ken's Christmas present arrived by UPS yesterday...
It's something he's been wanting for a while, especially now that his kids all seem to have his band-instrument gene. (what happened to meeeee? Why didn't *I* get that gene, too? Whine whine whine)
He did all the research, and all the eBay bidding, and finally, the blessed moment finally came.
He won his glorious (and pricey - but not as pricey as if he'd bought it at a store) apple-of-his eye.
A soprano saxophone.
I was out at a dress rehearsal this morning (singing with a jazz quartet tomorrow afternoon) so Ken was in charge of getting the kids to Starbucks and Kung Fu. After that, he was going to be taking The Littles out to a Board Game afternoon with some friends, leaving Skip at home to take a shower, and get ready for his trip to Sky High this evening. I'd come home, make sure Skip had showered and eaten something, and then take him off. Our family, we are a well-oiled machine sometimes.
I come home from rehearsal, wondering if Ken had, perhaps, decided to feed the kids before going out gaming with them, and from the driveway, I could hear the strains of his Christmas Present, noodling around on scales and little snatches of tunes.
Oh well, I sighed, he decided against taking the little ones out gaming, and has instead stayed home to play with his present, which he SAID he was going to let me wrap up and put under the tree.
I was just getting up a good head of "I thought you were going to take care of the kids" and "You're not going to have ANYTHING to look forward to on Christmas morning" as I walked through the door...
And saw this....
Hi mom.... I wasn't expecting you... dad left, and... well... I wondered how hard it was to play a sax...
Are you going to tell dad...?
I won't if you won't.