Joyful Noise

YaYa was practicing oboe in the piano room.  I was sitting on the futon in the cabin room, all the way across the house, typing on my laptop, enjoying the sounds of one of my progeny making music.  Across the room, Mr. Sneaky Pants was sitting by the fire. Nonchalantly, he looked over at me and said calmly,  “It rather sounds as though there is a dying duck in the other room, I believe.”

Thank goodness I wasn’t eating anything.  I would have choked.  And thank goodness that the oboist was in the other room and couldn’t see me totally cracking up!

I’ve mentioned before how I have a big heart for the first sounds musicians make when they start learning their instruments.  I LOVE beginning instrumentalists.  They are enthusiastic.  They are unafraid.  They improve at an amazing rate of learning!  The oboe doesn’t even sound as bad as many other beginning instruments.  I think the clarinet, which I actually play, is much worse, but I will readily admit that there is a small similarity to the first sounds on the oboe and the sound of a wild duck call that hunters carry in their pocket.

For the record, the cat hates the clarinet.  And the cat really hates the oboe.  Dr. Peds recently stated, “The cat is going to have a rough life these next few years.”