The Trumpet in the Closet

A few years ago my neighbor was having a garage sale and selling a really nice trumpet.  Of course I could not LEAVE the trumpet there!  Garage sales . . . musical instruments . . . I could not resist that lovely combination.  The trumpet was in excellent condition, but lived in a moldy case.  I brought it home, cleaned it up, got a new case, and it plays marvelously.  I showed it to my preschool music class at the time when we were learning about trumpets.  Every once in a while I bring it out to play taps at a fish funeral before I flush whichever goldfish has died down the toilet.  

For a long time, Mr. Sneaky Pants has said that the trumpet will be his instrument of choice.  He is looking forward to being a marching banger (we've always called marching band members "marching bangers" around here).  He wants to play fast.  And loud.  A trumpet is certainly one of the loudest instruments around.  He may change his mind, and if he does, that's fine.  If he does play the trumpet, I'd be thrilled. I think it would suit him well.  

While I was putting away the mountain of laundry yesterday morning, I remembered the trumpet in my closet, and Mr. Sneaky Pants was very excited for me to bring it out.  We oiled the valves.  I toodled a bit.  He practiced buzzing his lips, and then trying to blow through the trumpet.  And he could actually make sound!  He was sooooooo excited.  He could hardly contain his joy inside his scrawny little self.  
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